Doctors and Dragons and Witches (Oh, My)
by HiBob
Summary: Draco Malfoy meets John Smith. Hermione Granger forms a close friendship with a certain blond boy. Together, with Harry Potter, they discover the wonders, and dangers, of Hogwarts. Chapter 18: Resolutions and revelations
1. What Do You Know About Dragons

**I was thinking about what to do next. I decided I would go back to the cliche list. You know what I mean. Harry has a twin brother. Harry goes to Slytherin. Harry has Snape as his mentor. Then I thought about Draco.**

**I like writing about Draco.**

**I also tend to write crossovers. I decided to give this one a try so I'm throwing in the Doctor as well. But not quite. He's a seventh year by the name of John Smith. Which makes me wonder. Are there any stories where the Doctor has a twin brother?**

**It's times like this that I wished I did own the rights to any of these people/places/ franchises.**

**-HiBob**

* * *

Chapter One: What Do You Know About Dragon?

* * *

_What do you know about dragons?_

_I know two facts about dragons. They live in preserves. My name means dragon in Latin. A third fact: Dragon marmalade is not made with slices of dragon peels. Mother lied to me about that when I was four and I believed her until Vincent Crabbe asked me if I was stupid._

_I should have said yes._

_The truth is that I knew who I was. I knew what was expected of me. If I did any less, I would not be worthy of the name of Malfoy. On that day, September the First, I was exactly what I was supposed to be for a wizard who was eleven. Richly dressed. Well groomed. Exuding superiority just shy of arrogance. Walking briskly, confidently, through Kings Cross Station. Everyone who saw me saw all this._

_Except one._

_Except one girl._

_One stupid Mudblood girl slightly older than I was. She saw me and did not notice my superiority. That was my downfall. She noticed my grooming. She thought I was cute._

_That memory always makes me smile when I think of Hermione refusing to marry me. Not that I asked her to marry me. I only said that I should be the one asking her to marry me. And she did refuse to marry me because I wasn't asking her to._

_That part didn't happen until later. Much later._

* * *

Hermione Jane Granger tried to remain calm while she led her parents through Kings Cross Station. The truth was that she wasn't sure exactly which column to walk through and she didn't want to search through her trunk for her notebook. As she confidently brushed back her bushy hair, her mother asked if she was sure of her directions. She had brushed her hair back at least three times in as many minutes.

"It's nothing, Mum," Hermione said slowly. She noticed a family slowing at the second column forward from where she was. She noticed the boy. Blond, confident, rich, blond, a wonderful oval face. And he was also blond. She confidently brushed her hair back with her hand. Twice. Her mother noticed the reason. Both reasons.

"We'll let them go first," Mum said. She added casually, "Their boy, he looks a little like that actor you like."

"He's cuter." Hermione said. As the words came out, the blood drained from her face. It returned full force a moment later.

"The other boy's nose was always too big in my opinion," Mum said. A second later, she commented that the blond boy and his parents had disappeared.

Hermione, very self-conscious now, edged toward the barrier that led to the magical train platform. Her first thought was what if the boy was there. But that didn't make things better or worse. She had tried to prepare herself for the world of magic. Once she passed through that barrier, she would literally be entering a new world. Would she be able to hold her own? Would being smart even matter?

"Nervous, Hermione?" her father asked as they neared the column. He spoke her worst fear. "It's the great unknown, up ahead." Then he said the one thing that guaranteed she would cross the barrier with a smile. "At least the boys are up to standard."

"I love you, Dad," Hermione said cheerfully as she cast a quick glance back at him. Facing forward again, she led the way to Platform 9 3/4.

The three walked past the Hogwarts Express engine, admiring how clean and colourful it was. When they reached the third car, Hermione spotted an empty compartment. Her father helped her put her trunk up, whispering to her to have a wonderful time. Her mother was commenting on how her daughter was growing up too quickly. This was followed by the hugs and kisses. Her parents knew the last thing she wanted was a long goodbye. With a final admonition to stay out of trouble and to write often, they left her to do what they knew she wanted, to explore her new environment, and perhaps find a certain young boy and say hello.

As they walked away, Mister Granger commented that the boy had better be as smart as Hermione if he wanted their daughter to like him.

"She's only eleven, dear."

"Old enough to make a friend." He smiled at his wife as he squeezed her hand. "We both know that's how all things start."

* * *

Percy Weasley excused himself as soon as he could. The prefects were gathering in the first car. It would make him look good in the Head Boy's eyes if he was early. And he might have a chance to have a few words with Penelope Clearwater before the meeting started. It would be foolish but he wanted to tell her how sorry he was that they had no chance to get together over the summer holiday.

He was in luck. It was an open car, a club car, so he had a clear view of where everyone was. Penelope was there, and had deliberately saved a seat for him, the one next to her. Most of the other prefects were there, already, so that part of his plan didn't work out as well as he hoped. Jennifer Dorney, the Head Girl, did comment that she noticed he made it a point to spend time with his parents before boarding the train. She smiled at Penelope when she said that showed a good understanding of the importance of family. Penelope blushed slightly as she told Percy she had no idea why Jennifer would say such a thing.

"Right, then" John Smith, the head boy called out as the train made its departure. "Let's get all the work out of the way as quickly as possible. Our main task is to organize a schedule for patrolling the corridors." He quickly set the ground rules. "Monday through Friday, one prefect from each house is to patrol the corridors, paired with a prefect from one of the other houses. On weekends, we divide the days into four groups. That means that each prefect will have two patrols each week. Jennifer and I will take the late Sunday patrol. If anyone has a preference on who they want to be paired with, they should make it known as soon as I am done speaking. We'll get you sorted first." He smiled at Percy and Penelope as well as a couple of others. Anyone with special preferences, we'll take you next. As for the rest of you, we'll place you arbitrarily. You can trade off as needs be. Any questions? Any objections?

Percy was impressed. Within an hour, everyone had their schedule. John even smiled when he told Percy and Penelope they could be first to choose their times. When Penelope demurred, both John and Jennifer told them to take any two times. If they truly didn't care, they could trade if someone wanted those times. Everyone else still had to choose but two prefects were able to secure a booth in the rear of the car for a long private discussion.

They paused at one point, when John said he was going to walk the train to make sure there were no problems. Could he bring them something from the trolley?

* * *

Marcus Flint was blocking the hallway in the fifth car as best he could while he talked to the Slytherins in the compartment, Derrick and Bole, the beaters for the Quidditch team. He was letting them know that, since he was now captain, they would have a free hand. He was curious how much damage they could do with the bludgers and get away with. Both were saying it would be fun to find out. Occasionally, he would sneer at someone squeezing past him to get by.

* * *

Neville Longbottom was trying to be nice but the girl he was sharing the compartment with seemed to be self absorbed. Not that he minded. It meant that he all he had to do was listen and answer the occasional question. He had already disappointed her when he told her he had almost no magical ability. He was surprised when he was accepted into Hogwarts. He even had to admit he was enjoying himself. She was lecturing him, at least she seemed to be, but she was doing it in a way that let him know she meant well.

The girl, a muggleborn named Hermione, even proved she had a good heart when he made his first unsolicited response. He had put his hand down to pet his toad and found nothing but seat. A quick search told him the worst.

"Trevor's gone. I've lost him."

Hermione helped look, then went out into the corridor. She began knocking on other compartment doors without him having to ask. She questioned each occupant about a lost toad and had them promise to let her know if they found it.

It was at the fourth compartment, that the tall boy walked up. He was grinning.

"Hello, John Smith, Head Boy. What's all this about a missing toad?"

"Um, i-it's Trevor," Neville offered. ""He's gone missing."

"It must have hopped out before Neville closed the compartment door," Hermione explained. "And he wasn't in the corridor when we looked.

"He still isn't. Oh, and you are?" John asked. "I've already introduced myself and you introduced Neville."

Neville sheepishly raised his hand when John pointed at him. His shy smile became real as she laughed, amused by his action. This time, Hermione had the shy smile as she told John her name.

"Right, then," John said as he clapped his hands. "The first thing you have to understand about toads is that they are toads. There are two possibilities. Trevor hopped out of the compartment and was picked up, the most likely suspects being the Weasley twins. The other, and more likely, is that he hopped under the seats and is still in the compartment. Neville, you go back to your compartment and pull out the trunks. That's where he should be. I'll check with Fred and George, just to make sure they haven't _found_ him."

Neville smiled. Pulling out the trunks was something he could manage. He paused as he noticed the look on Hermione's face. He knew she was bossy, in a nice way. She seemed grateful for the help and upset that she couldn't finish the task. Apparently, the Head Boy saw it to.

"Hermione," John asked, casually, "do you want to come with me. It might make the Weasleys feel guilty if they saw a sad first year girl crying because of what they did."

"I'm not crying," Hermione pointed out.

"I'll teach you on the way," John said. He turned and gave Neville a wink. "We'll check with the Trolley Lady, too. She may not have Trevor but she does have some excellent candy."

Neville went back to his compartment with a big smile. He had a task before him and, more importantly, he did not have a bossy girl (although she is nice about it) watching him.

* * *

Draco Malfoy was annoyed. He had specifically told Crabbe and Goyle to get him a compartment in the second car from the end. (The trolley lady had her storage in the last car, he had been told. She always came early and returned late enough to ask for customers a second time.) He was willing to wager that they had a compartment in the second car from the front end. He had waited until the trolley lady came before he decided to find his two friends. Now that he had eaten a pumpkin pastie, he was ready to walk the length of the train rather than spend the entire trip alone.

He reached the Trolley Lady two cars forward and decided that a licorice wand would be a good help in walking the rest of the train. He avoided a pair of ginger haired boys as they almost stepped on him coming out of their compartment. He guessed they were Weasleys. They only laughed at him when he sneered. He kept walking, trying not to be obvious that he had quickened his pace. They may be muggle lovers but they were also twice his size. Arrogance did not mean stupidity.

Draco opened the door into the next car, walked through and into what was the fifth car from the front. the one where Marcus Flint was blocking the hallway. They had met once at a party his father had given two Christmases ago. Flint did not impress Draco then and he didn't impress now. Draco gave a brusk, "excuse me" as he tried to push past the big oaf. The big oaf backed up, pushing him into the wall.

Angrily, Draco pulled himself past and began straightening his robes. "YOU IGNORANT . . ."

Flint pushed Draco forcefully so that the blond boy landed hard on his arse. "Watch your language, runt." He and his friends laughed as Draco picked himself up and threatened to tell his father. He angrily turned and stormed away. He heard Flint say how the weird little kid was going to tell his parents.

The door to the next car opened as Draco neared. He couldn't help but sneer angrily at the two people who walked through. A bushy-haired girl and an older boy wearing, Draco smiled as he recognized it, the badge of the Head Boy.

The girl was laughing as she stepped into the car. She stopped almost directly in front of Draco. Then she did something strange. She rushed out an apology for almost running into him. Halfway through the apology, she stopped, she smiled, she said hello, she frowned, all in less than a second. Then she asked a question.

"Did something happen?"

"Flint," the Head Boy's angry voice answered. "I think I'll have words with him. If you don't mind the delay, Hermione?"

Draco smiled at the remark. He noticed that Hermione smiled when he smiled. It was the same look Pansy Parkinson had at his birthday party when she said they should tell everyone they were dating. He grinned at the memory of her face when he said he'd rather date a house elf. He focused on the girl in front of him and saw she was now grinning as well. Inwardly, he was groaning. It was obvious she knew who he was. He looked up as John asked his name and the particulars of his encounter with Flint.

Draco briefly turned back to Hermione, still smiling, before he answered the Head Boy's question. This girl did not know who he was. That meant she liked him because she thought he was attractive. A half second later, the smile faded as he realized she did not know him because she was not a pureblood. Not that she would have noticed. He was already explaining how he'd been bullied.

Flint's voice was heard as Draco completed his short tale. "Look at that. Smith is here to take care of the little ones." Three Slytherins laughed.

John called out to Flint and told him to quit blocking the aisle. Flint told him to expletive off as they weren't at school, yet.

* * *

Fred and George walked slowly as they entered the next car, giving polite nods to friends as they walked by. They waited until the blond firsty went through the far doors. He had the look of snitch about him.

The boy gone, they walked to the far end where the loo was. Fred opened the door and announced it was empty. A third year Hufflepuff in a nearby compartment smiled at them and asked if there was going to be noise. George assured her that "no one will hear a thing." Fred added, cheerfully, "for at least five minutes." She smiled again and closed her compartment door.

A fifth year Ravenclaw walked by and gave them a half hearted "tsk, tsk" when he saw the rocket-shaped firework. He gave them a smile as he opened the door to the next compartment.

* * *

Marcus Flint was upset. Not only did that runt annoy him but now the head boy shows up and yells at him. He made an appropriate response and turned away.

Someone opened the doors between the cars and Marcus grinned. The Weasleys were about to pull one of their stunts. And, briefly, both car doors were open. As the twins went to light the fuse, Flint had his wand out.

"ACCIO FIREWORK."

The plan was simple. Flint would get the firework. He would be the one to light it., and he would aim it at that good for nothing John Smith. With luck, he would get the runt as well.

It worked beautifully. The firework came through the door of the other compartment before it closed. It barely missed the Ravenclaw boy who was walking through the door to this compartment. Then the plan took a bad turn. The firework ignited. As it was already heading toward him, the ignition caused the rocket to race forward at an excessive speed.

Flint ducked as the rocket barely missed his head. He looked up in time to see the firework explode.

* * *

Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were already fast friends. Ron was amazed to find out that the Boy-Who-Lived had no knowledge of magic, that he grew up as a muggle. That banished his initial awe, having to explain how he grew up in a magic household. As he pointed out how useless his rat, Scabbers was, he noticed something. Harry was smiling. A real smile. That was the true moment their friendship began.

They paused in their conversation when they heard someone shouting in the corridor. Out of curiosity, Ron stood up and opened the compartment door. As soon as it was open, he and Harry stared at the older boy, who was wearing a badge, and a boy and girl, both clearly first years like them. The three glanced at them.

The older boy looked down the corridor, fear filling his face. He shoved the other two into the compartment while shouting, "WATCH OUT."

Harry and Ron fell onto the seats on either side. The girl and boy landed on the floor. Bur Harry wasn't watching them. He was looking into the corridor. The older boy was standing there. It looked like a round spear had landed on the right side of his chest. Before the older boy could react, the spearhead exploded.

The older boy staggered and began to fall into the compartment. Ron yelled, "Harry," as he hurried to grab the girl off the floor and onto the seat next to him. Harry, already prone on his seat, pulled the blond boy up and on top of him.

The older boy collapsed and landed on the floor of the compartment.


	2. Time for a Change

**It's been a strange week for me. My computer is dying a slow death so I went to buy a new one. I ended up with the complete Monty Python as well. Every TV episode ever aired. I decided to post this chapter before I put the first disk in the DVD player. If I don't post another chapter for a month, you know it's because I'm watching dead parrots.**

**I want to assure Linnya that John does make it to Hogwarts. Not that there was any doubt. I also want to thank everyone else for reviewing. (I know. I always say that. On the other hand, I do mean it.)**

**In closing, I should note that I will be explaining how John became a wizard, and a student although I won't explain how he became Head Boy. (That should be obvious.) (If it isn't obvious, I apologize.)**

**-HiBob**

* * *

**Chapter 2: Time for a Change**

* * *

_I will admit it. I was cute when I was that age. Not that I look anything like that now. I recently came across an old photograph. My brother and I are standing in front of our parents. We are in our school robes. All four of us are smiling. I remember that it was early in my second year._

_I also remember the boy who took the picture. Colin Creevey. He was a first year. And a shutterbug. And very obnoxious. I was ready to yell at him when he asked to take our portrait but I never had a chance. Father said it was a wonderful idea. Mother agreed._

_We posed. A week later, we each had a small picture that could fit in a pocket. When My brother and I went home for the holidays, a life size portrait was hanging in the dining room._

_But that was long ago. Colin is gone, as are our parents. As are almost everyone we used to know from those days. It's times like these that I remember why I avoid thinking about the past._

* * *

Harry Potter could only stare. He had grabbed the blond boy out of the way as the older boy fell into the compartment and landed on the floor, rolled onto his back and let out a groan. Harry looked over to see Ron on the other seat with the girl next to him, a less embarrassing situation.

The boy lying on top of Harry looked him in the eye and said with a snarl, "We shouldn't be meeting like this until after we're introduced." The boy quickly agreed that this position was better than being underneath the head boy. Then he smiled.

"The name's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

"I'm Harry Potter."

Draco arched an eyebrow. In response, Harry gave him a wry smile. Apparently Ron was correct. Everyone knew about the Boy-Who-Lived.

"If you will excuse me," Draco said and gingerly removed himself from on top of Harry and found footing on the flood. He then knelt down to examine the Head Boy.

In the hallway, shouting could be heard. Mostly abuse at whoever was responsible for the accident. One of the Weasley twins was at the compartment door, saying help was coming. He then asked how John was.

Draco answered. "He says it hit him in the heart."

The girl was looking into the corridor. Then she made a sensible suggestion. "Could you close the door until the help arrives?"

Harry followed her look and understood. The corridor was growing crowded with curious students. John gave a smile and agreed, pulling back his legs so they were clear of the doorway. The Weasley twin said to consider it done. As he closed the compartment door, he told them to keep John comfortable.

Harry now turned his attention to the Head Boy who was saying, "I know my heart is on the left side. I was talking about my other heart."

"You have two hearts?" Harry asked.

"Had," John panted, then arched in pain. "Not long now."

Draco had grabbed John's right hand and told him to try to relax. The girl slid off her seat squeezing onto the floor next to Draco, John's legs between them. She grabbed John's left hand and told him everything was going to be fine, that help was coming.

John arched in pain. His face took on a golden glow. As the wave of pain passed, he cried, "No. Not now. It's too soon."

"You'll be fine," the girl insisted, almost demanding, as she began to cry.

Draco removed one of his hands from John's and reached over to grab the girl's shoulder. "Could you try to be sensible, um, . . ."

"Hermione," John provided.

"Thank you, and I'm Draco," Draco said and turned back to the girl. "Um, Hermione. After all, he still has one heart." He took his hand away.

"Could you do that again?" John asked.

* * *

Draco had known that the Boy-Who-Lived was on the Hogwarts Express. In his original thoughts, he introduced himself and the two became fast friends. Instead, he was staring at the other boy's green eyes through a pair of glasses that had seen better days. He made his apology and carefully lowered himself to the floor, trying not to step on the head boy.

It was not an easy sight. The right side of his chest had burst open. Rib bones were exposed and bits were mixed with the blood. Any clothing that would have blocked the view had burned away. The charred edges were now soaking up the excess blood.

"How bad is it?" Draco asked, ignoring all the other noise. Inside his head, he was telling himself to run to his mother even if it meant jumping off the train.

"It pierced one of my hearts before it exploded. Bad luck, that."

Someone was asking how John was and Draco answered that it hit the heart. John groaned out something and Draco reached out, purely an instinct, and grabbed his right hand. He idly noticed the blood. Inside, he was delighted. He realized he was in shock from what he had witnessed. He had heard about it but now knew what kind of effect it would have on him. His only fear was that someone would notice. His shocked self said there would be no problem. All he had to do was act as though everything that happened was completely normal.

Draco patted John's hand. The girl had slid off her seat and grabbed John's other hand. Draco idly noted that John had pulled his feet up and he could comfortably lean against the older boy's knee. John didn't notice as he arched in pain. The girl said something and began to cry. Draco cursed himself. He needed to pay attention. He also needed to get the girl to stop crying. He explained, interrupted by a brief introduction, that John still had another heart. He put his hand on her shoulder to (he paused to think of an explanation) because it would show compassion.

Draco came to the conclusion he did not enjoy being in shock. He found himself acting out of character. He now had his hand on the shoulder of some unknown girl, except for her name. He mentally corrected himself. A partially known girl. Probably a mudblood, but this wasn't the time to insult people. One thing he did do was remove his hand from her shoulder. Then John asked him to do it again.

Draco smiled. He had no idea what else to do. He put his hand back on Hermione's shoulder. The fabric was rough. She was definitely muggleborn. Then he began to wonder why he was doing this. So he asked.

He didn't like the answer. He knew about animagi, and metamorphmagi. (His cousin was one but her mother had been banished from the family. He never had a chance to meet her. It would have been cool.) He was now finding out that John was a regenerative mage. He didn't die, as in staying dead. He changed into a healthy body.

Draco was angry. That boy was a, well, become-all-healthy-again wizard. The boy lying on the seat next to him was the Boy-Who-Lived. All Draco could brag about was that he had money. Not even that. His parents had money. All Draco had was whatever he was given. True, that was everything he wanted but it still wasn't the same as getting it himself, or at least telling someone to get it for him. The way his luck was going, Hermione whateverhername was probably some muggle princess or something. At least he was better than someone. The other boy was a Weasley.

Gold flashed before his eyes and he inhaled. It smelled like cinnamon. He liked cinnamon. He inhaled more cinnamon. Vaguely, he heard someone talk about slowing something down. There were spells for that.

"What if we use our wands?"

* * *

Hermione was startled when Draco grabbed her shoulder. At least it stopped her from crying. He looked so calm. He even gave her a reassuring smile. Then he reminded Hermione of John's uniqueness. His hand on her shoulder was the last reassurance she needed. If this boy wasn't worried then, regardless of how strange the situation was, it couldn't be that serious. This was magic.

She was looking at John, trying to smile. He gave her a curious look then turned away to look at Draco. As John turned, Draco took his hand off her shoulder.

"Could you do that again?" John asked.

Hermione was surprised when Draco said it would not be a problem. He put his hand back on her shoulder but he was looking at John. She turned to look as well. John was smiling. His face, and now his chest, had a light golden glow.

Ron, still perched on the seat, said, "Cor, look at that."

The wound on John's chest was glowing brighter. It was closing. Hermione realized that the wound was healing at a rapid speed.

"You're going to live?" Hermione asked in relief. John seemed to be relaxing.

"No. Well, yes," John said. "I'm going to regenerate."

Draco asked the one word question. "Regenerate?"

"All healthy again, but my body changes." He paused. "Hermione, could you hold hands with Draco?"

Hermione willfully complied, giving Draco a huge grin. He returned it, giving her hand a squeeze a well. That one act won her heart. If he was so confident, there was no reason to be afraid. Her smile grew slightly. That meant there was no reason she couldn't satisfy her curiosity.

"How does holding hands help?"

"It creates a circle," John explained. He paused to let out a sigh, except the sigh was a cloud of glowing gold. As it drifted away, John's features changed slightly. His hair became distinctly shorter and lighter in colour. "I regenerate too quickly. I lose a lot of mass."

Draco made an approving noise. Hermione looked to see the last of the golden cloud disappear up his nose. He told her it smelled like cinnamon.

"The circle slows it down?" Harry was asking.

"Exactly," John conceded. "If I were an adult, it wouldn't be a problem. I would lose mass, and age to compensate. I'd usually end up as a ten or eleven year old." He paused to exhale another golden cloud. "If I did nothing this time, I'd be needing nappies." Hermione was watching the cloud drift into Draco's face as John added. "Joining hands makes a circle. It slows the change." He gave a light moan and exhaled another gold cloud. He was now shorter, with darker hair that was longer than it was originally. "I wish I could slow it more."

"Ron and I could join in," Harry offered.

"Bigger circle," John pointed out, "It would only pick up speed faster."

"The Process accelerates," Hermione said, proud that she understood. "Instead of it only being you, the magic is going through me and Draco. That slows down the change so you won't lose as much mass. But each time it passes through us a little faster." As she paused, John told her she was brilliant. Then he asked if she had any ideas on how to slow it down more. He now had black hair hanging over his shoulders. Draco voiced an idea.

"What if we use our wands?"

Draco let go of Hermione and grabbed his wand. She quickly grabbed hers. He gave her an impish grin as they touched wands.

Hermione noticed something odd. The golden glow that almost seemed to surround John had begun floating off into the air like so many specks of dust. They now were slowly but clearly heading toward Draco.

"Is Draco . . . ?" She paused as the boy, Harry, began tying the two wands together.

* * *

Harry was amazed. It was as though John's face and body had become like water. His features constantly flowed, forming one face after another. He seemed to be gradually shrinking in size. The glow surrounded his body. Curiously, Draco's hand which held his was also glowing. Hermione's hand appeared normal. When they went to pull out their wands, the glow around John brightened . When the wands touched, the glow dimmed, although John still had a golden sheen.

Draco or Hermione must have moved and the wands briefly stopped touching each other. For that instant, the glow brightened again. "They need to hold the wands together?" he asked, looking at John. John nodded.

That was when Harry had a flash of insight. He pulled up his leg and began untying the string he used to lace on his trainer. Scooting over to the door, he managed to stand behind Draco. Hermione had just said the words, "is Draco," when he reached over. Looping the string over and around the two wands he tied them together.

"It's easier to hold them together," He told Hermione.

She gave her thanks, then asked if he noticed Draco, that the glowing dust seemed to flow toward him. Ron commented that he had noticed. Draco commented that it smelled nice. They all turned to John.

"It's the circle," John explained. "It flows through Draco goes around and comes back to me from Hermione. The wands act as a filter to slow the movement. Lucky, that. It could have had the opposite effect. As long as the circle holds, I can control the speed of the change."

"But your face keeps changing?" Harry asked.

"Really? I can only think that I'm going back through my regerations. It would be great if we had a camera. I'd love to have pictures of this."

It was such an absurd comment that Harry had to laugh.

"You're laughing because you DO have a camera?" John asked hopefully, then sighed. "Not my lucky day, is it?"

Harry started to answer no when the compartment door opened. An older man stuck his head in. He looked around at the strange group. Then he looked at the figure lying on the floor of the compartment. His eyes widened.

"John?"

"Eric? You're on the train?"

"I usually sit in the last car with the others, just in case. This is one of those cases. They took Marcus Flint back there with them. The boy will be returning to London." The man looked at Ron. "You're a Weasley? Expect your brothers to get a Howler once your parents find out. I know they'll like the detentions better than what Molly will do when she gets her hands on them." He smiled at Ron before turning back to John. "This is different from last time."

"We're slowing the process," John explained. "I don't want to be too young."

"You look14, maybe fifteen."

"If I let go of either hand then, I should be, oh, five or six at this point."

"Good Luck." Eric looked behind, at the curious crowd. "I'll be here if you need me." He nodded to everyone, then closed the door. They could hear him in the corridor chasing the students back to their compartments.

"Eric Munch, good man," John told the others, "He was there the last time." John paused. "I remember that, the last time." He paused. "And . . . the time before. I've never done that. Remembered. I wonder if I'll remember after I change this time."

Harry asked how the change worked. John beamed at the question. He said it worked like magic. When he dies, all his cells rearrange themselves. About two thirds of them die off to supply the energy, but he rejuvenates, which he explained means getting younger. "The wonderful thing is Hogwarts. Whatever age I am, they consider me eleven. If this works," he added cheerfully, "I'll be a first year." He paused and tilted his head. "I wonder if they'll let me stay Head Boy?"

"Er," Ron asked. "How long is this going to take?" He looked guilty. "I"m not trying to rush you or anything. I'm", he shrugged his shoulders, "just curious."

"It could take forever, as far as I'm concerned," Draco said. He was still looking at Hermione and he still had that impish grin on his face. Hermione sighed.

Harry looked at Ron who was rolling his eyes.

* * *

Hermione looked over at Draco when he said that it could take forever. That smile. That adorable face. And to say such a wonderful thing. She sighed. This was the boy she wanted to marry. Of course, schooling came first. That would give them plenty of time to work out the details. She paused in her thoughts.

"John," her voice said it was a serious question, "how long IS this going to take?"

"I have no idea. Less than an hour I should think." He grinned. "We'll still have half the trip to school to act normal."

Hermione smirked at his tone. "And how do we act normal?"

John's grin widened. "I have no idea."

"Do what I'm doing," Draco commented, "just act like anything that happens is perfectly normal."

Ron laughed. "That's stupid."

"It's working for me," Draco drawled.

"You're just weird."

"Is any of this normal?" Harry was asking.

"No," Ron answered.

The comment struck a chord with Hermione. "John, if this isn't normal, then what exactly are we doing." She glanced at Draco before looking back. "Look at Draco. Your glow is covering half of him as well, but it isn't touching me. What's it doing to him?"

John suddenly set up in one swift motion without even letting go of either hand. "I hadn't noticed that." He looked carefully at Hermione. She had to laugh. His nose was growing bigger while his hair was shrinking.

"Hermione, what are you thinking about? No. No. Not your questions or laughing at how I look. What's sitting in that little place in the back of your head? That thought that's always there. Which thought is that?"

Hermione became defensive. "I'm not thinking about it." She added testily, as though it should be obvious, "I don't know."

John smiled. "Never mind. But this is what's going on. The glow. That's the essence of my regeneration. Normally it would flow only through me. It would consume me. Do you follow?"

Hermione smiled. "So far. And now it's flowing in a circle."

"Exactly," John said as his glowing features changed again. "Now, the excess essence is going into Draco, through the wands, then through you, and through your hand back into me. That's why the loose essence is attracted to him. Think of it like little pixies or," he grinned, "you're muggleborn? Think nanobots." He frowned. His long hair shortened and his nose shortened, making him look a bit like Harry. "How would I know about nanobots?" His grin became manic.

"Hermione, this is important." His hair almost completely disappeared and his ears fanned out like a pair of round wings. "If you can do this, it will be fantastic. I need you to think about someone. Anyone. But it has to be a specific person."

Hermione was worried. He was changing faster. "John?"

"I'm ready," John told her, "I'm letting the process complete itself." His hair was once again long but was becoming shorter and black. "I can do this with your help, but I need you to concentrate," His hair became curly and blond and then started to become flat. His round face became thinner. "I can do this if I let you choose my next form. Think about anyone. Any specific person." His hair went from dark and curly to light and curly. The glow began to brighten. John grinned his best. "How about someone you like?"

Hermione grinned. She turned to Draco. The glow around him brightened as well.

And she understood.

Somehow, she was affecting the magical essence as it passed through her. That was what John was trying to explain. She knew what that thought was, the thought in the back of her head. It had been there since she saw him in Kings Cross. She was thinking of Draco. And the regeneration nanobot pixies were mapping him. She knew what John's final form would be.

John screamed. He pulled his hands free and backed against the far side of the compartment. Everyone else backed toward the door. For some reason, the man in the hallways was yelling that nothing was wrong and to stay in the compartments. Hermione, against the door next to Harry, found herself holding her wand. Draco's wand was still attached to it because of the string. And Draco . . .

Draco was still sitting on the floor. John was glowing and the glow was washing over Draco like a wave then flowing back.

The glow faded. Draco was still sitting on the floor at Harry's feet. He was also sitting on the other side of the compartment in oversized robes that were torn to shreds on one side. This Draco was running his tongue around in his mouth.

"New teeth," He said, working his jaw. "That's always the first thing you notice. Well, that I notice, anyway." He looked up directly at her.

He was grinning impishly.

"Hello."


	3. Acting Normal

**A/N: I know I'm supposed to write something but, except for my usual thank you's for the reviews (Thank you, by the way), I can never think of anything. Therefore, I will leave you with one of my favorite quotes, which is from an anonymous source.**

_**I dream of a better world, where chickens can cross the road without having their motives questioned.**_

**Good reading, all.**

* * *

**Chapter 3: Acting Normal**

* * *

_The most curious thing about John was that he was identical to me. Naturally, he needed a change of clothes and I was the obvious choice. The man, Eric Munch, had the Weasley twins retrieve my trunk. Hermione, Harry and Ron excused themselves as I took out from my trunk what was needed. Eric waited until John removed the rags that were his old clothes. He cast a scourgify charm to clean the blood from John then politely excused himself. I could see Hermione grin, briefly, as the compartment door opened and closed. While it irked me, John simply smiled._

_I paused as I handed him some pants. He asked why I was staring. I told him he had my mole. He asked if I wanted it back. We both laughed. That was when he told me. We looked exactly alike. He had a mole because I had a mole. He had blond hair just brushing his shoulders because I did. Physically, we were the same. Except he still had two hearts._

_As he dressed, in as exact a duplicate as I could manage of what I was wearing, I explained to him about the mole. Mother has always told me I was perfect. I knew I was, except for that one mark. For some reason, whenever I made a mistake, it was because of the mole. It was my imperfection. If I didn't have it, I wouldn't have made the mistake. Anything I did wrong, I blamed on the mole._

_John thought I was weird._

* * *

The compartment door opened. Hermione peered around Mister Munch to see two identical blond boys. She couldn't help herself.

"You both look so cute."

Both scowled. One asked if she really considered him to be, in a disdainful voice, cute. The other said, in an identical tone, "She does."

"I've never been called cute before. Well, I have, but she said it to tease me. Not that she meant it."

The other Draco smirked. "Welcome to the world of eleven year old Malfoys."

"You, Ron Weasley, am I cute?"

Eric Munch began laughing. He said he'd send word to Dumbledore. He then asked for the badge.

John frowned. Munch pulled out his wand and called out, "Accio." A silver badge flew out of the pile of old clothes and into his hand. "Sorry, John. You'll have to earn it again." He then asked if we needed anything.

"Trolley Lady," John said quickly. "I need something to eat. On second thought, where is she? I'll go to her. It'll save time."

"No," Eric insisted. "I'll send her directly to you. I have her waiting in the next car."

"You had her wait?" Draco asked.

"I've been through this before. John needs to balance his system. And if Myra doesn't have what he needs," he laughed again, "It's going to be an interesting trip."

Hermione was smiling at the conversation. She could tell Harry and Ron were amused as well. After everything that had happened, this new John was demanding candy.

"Just like a Malfoy," Ron muttered so only she and Harry could hear. "Completely spoiled."

Eric Munch heard as well, and gave another laugh. He turned to the three of them. "So that you know, there's no charge for any of you. Special circumstances. Just remember. There's going to be a feast when you get to school. Don't gorge yourselves."

"Yes, Sir," Ron replied. He sounded almost believable.

John turned to Draco, "What should I eat?" At Draco's frown he added, "What did you eat? New taste buds, you know. You'll know what I like."

"Neville." Hermione shouted. "We forgot about Neville."

"Where is he?" Eric asked. "I'll send one of my helpers to fetch him." He nodded toward the other end of the car where the two Weasley twins were holding the doors for the Trolley Lady. Neither looked very happy.

* * *

Neville followed his escort through the train. He held Trevor close to his chest. The first person he encountered was the Trolley Lady. She told him to help himself. She told the Weasley escort he was wanted in the last car.

Neville gingerly took a box of Every Flavour Beans. He said thank you. Then the blond boy was next to him. He grabbed another box and stuffed in Neville's pocket along with a couple of sugar mice. Neville looked up. The Trolley Lady was smiling. He looked back at the blond boy who was making a gesture to someone else.

Neville looked the other way. The blond boy was there as well. The boy shrugged his shoulders and grabbed a couple of licorice wands. Neville looked back at the first blond boy who was grabbing a couple of chocolate frogs from some ginger kid. He turned back when he felt the other blond boy shove the licorice into his pocket. The boy slid a couple of pumpkin pasties in as well as a cauldron cake.

"Any more pockets?" the first blond boy asked. Neville shook his head. He grabbed a pile of pumpkin pasties and said to follow. They went into a compartment when Hermione was already biting off the head of a jelly slug. She looked up and smiled.

"You found him." She frowned. "Sorry we forgot about you."

"Um, that's all right." He was ushered into a seat next to a black haired boy. He looked up as the ginger boy sat next to him. The blond boy were still standing. Both of him. One was grinning, the other scowling. The scowling one shrugged his shoulder and the grinning one told Hermione to move over, that she was sitting in the middle. The blond boy sat on either side of her.

"You're Draco Malfoy," Neville asked. His uncertainty was mirrored by his head turning back and forth between the two boys.

"I am," the one closest to the compartment door said.

"I'm John. We met already," the other one said as he paused in eating a pumpkin pastie.. He added sadly, "I was Head Boy then." Before Neville could respond, he said, "long story." Everyone else laughed, except Draco who only smirked.

"Ron Weasley," said the boy on his right.

Neville looked at the black haired boy. The boy adjusted his glasses as he held out his hand. "Harry Potter."

"You're . . ."

"I know."

His smile was so friendly that Neville had to smile back.

"So, Neville," John asked, "did you find Trevor where I said."

"Um, yes, thank you." He scrunched his nose. It was odd thinking of Draco Malfoy as the Head Boy. Or was it the other way around? "He was behind my trunk."

"You have a toad?" Draco asked, the one who claimed to be Draco.

"Gran says it's safest."

Draco shrugged. "At least it's not a rat. You have to take care of rats and they still don't do anything."

"I have a rat," Ron protested, as he paused from eating his chocolate frog..

"Does it do anything? I mean, besides eating, sleeping and leaving little smelly surprises around."

"Well, no . . . but he's really old."

"OOOH," Draco said with a grin, "You'll have to get a new one soon."

"Rats are single minded," John offered. "The only thing they do think about is food."

Ron blushed for some reason, which confused Neville. On the other hand, Ron was opening another chocolate frog. Based on the cards in his lap, it was his fifth. He turned away to be looking at Hermione.

"Um," He said as a form of address.

"You say that a lot," John pointed out.

"Don't tease Neville," Hermione said indignantly.

"I'm not teasing. It just that he does say it a lot. Um, that is, not It. And he does it because he's always nervous. Almost always." He turned to Neville. "That's why Trevor likes you. Your hands are always sweaty. He only goes to hide when you calm down."

Neville stared. "He likes me?"

"If he was a cat, he'd be purring." He leaned forward. "Isn't that right, Trevor. You tell him."

Trevor croaked.

"That didn't happen," Harry said as he sat up.

Neville smirked. "Yes, it did. Trevor likes me." He gave Trevor a squeeze. Trevor croaked again.

"Bloody Hell." Ron was staring at Neville. "You can talk to your toad?"

Draco snorted. "Of course he can, Weasley. The hard part is getting the toad to talk back."

Ron, offended, popped the remainder of the chocolate frog into his mouth.

Neville was grinning. In all the time he had been in the compartment, no one had yelled at him, no one had insulted him and, he realized, no one had offered to open his box of Bertie Botts for him. He never thought of getting anyone to hold Trevor and his pockets were too full to consider putting him in there.

"Um," he said again.

They looked at him. He lifted his hand, the one with Trevor in it. He lifted his other hand, the one with candy in it.

"We can find a place for Trevor. Draco?"

* * *

"You have a toad?" Draco asked. He hesitated as Neville answered. He didn't want anyone to get mad at him so he swallowed his original comment. Then Weasley made a remark. Draco ended up having to argue how toads were better than rats. That was probably the reason Hermione asked him about where to put Trevor.

Draco looked up in surprise when Hermione addressed him. He paused in thought.

"We could put him up behind one of the trunks." He gave it a slightly mocking tone.

"I was only asking."

"I could repeat it in any tone you want. My answer will be the same. John said he liked it there."

He smiled as Hermione paused. She gave him a wry smile then turned to John. John said it was up to Trevor. Everyone looked at the toad as though it was going to answer. Neville lowered his hand and put his pet on the floor. Trevor hoped out of his hand then disappeared under the seat. Relieved of his burden, Neville tore open his box of candy.

The next few minutes were spent with everyone eating. Draco smiled as he remembered the first thing John had grabbed and placed in the compartment. A case of bottles. He reached under his seat, pulling out a couple of bottle of pumpkin juice. He passed them out, reaching for more until everyone had something to drink. He even smiled when Hermione thanked him.

He was happy. For him it was a strange feeling. He was with a group of people and no one really cared who he was. (Except for Weasley.) He was always taught that he was someone important. Someone to listen to. And everyone did listen to him if he said something. Not because he was Draco but because they were curious what he had to say.

Now, he had a question. He grinned as he realized he was, in a way, asking himself.

"John, what's Hogwarts like?"

"It's like a school." He grinned. "I know. Stupid answer. But. And this is strange, at least for me. This time, I remember."

"This time?" Harry asked.

"I regenerated. New life. Usually I would remember the basics. How to read. How to write. How to get dressed. What things were. But I wouldn't remember my previous life. What I liked. What I was good at. Things like that." He bit off the end of a licorice wand.

"How many times have you been to Hogwarts?"

"As a student?" John looked up as he counted. "Eight. I was even a teacher a couple of times. Herbology, once. And Charms. But that was long ago."

"How old are you?" Ron asked, his amazement showing.

John laughed. "I don't want to think about that. Let's say that I'm eleven with memories that are much older." His laugh turned to a smile which faded. "Not all of them were good memories, Ron. I don't want to think about them."

"Recent memories then," Hermione suggested. "I've read Hogwarts, a History, so I have some idea. What can we expect at Hogwarts?"

"The Great Hall is amazing. I won't spoil it for you." John paused in thought. "Let's leave it at that. The best part is discovering it for yourself." He laughed at Hermione's frown. "Did you ever find out what something was like before you went to see it? Did you enjoy it as much as finding something you didn't know was there?"

It was Neville who commented. "He meant that. Hogwarts will be more fun if we find out what's there for ourselves."

A chocolate frog jumped into Neville's lap.

"Sorry," Harry said. "I didn't know it would do that."

"It's the cards you want, anyway," Ron said. "Who'd you get? I'm looking for Ptolemy or Agrippa."

"Merlin."

Ron shrugged. "I 've a dozen of him."

"I met him," John said. "Nice man. Always willing to help. Bit of a kingmaker if you know what I mean."

"You mean Camelot?" Hermione asked. "That was real?"

John wiggled his hand. "Well, the knights and the round table were made up. And he was Welsh, not English. And Guinevere did not run off with some French knight, either. OH, and he's the reason I'm a wizard. It was an accident, well, the second accident. The first one was falling off that horse. True, the horse tripped up, and I should have been paying attention. And, while they were firing arrows at us, we were already out of range."

"And?" Draco dared to ask.

"And what? Oh, yes, what did Merlin do? He tried to heal me. While I was regenerating." John frowned. "I woke up a wizard. " Her muttered lowly, "I'd already lost her long before that."

Hermione couldn't help herself. "You've been a wizard for 1400 years?"

"Closer to 15 and a half."

"How old ARE you?"

John gave a forced smile. "Eleven. Could we leave it at that."

Hermione felt small. After what happened, John seemed larger than life. That smile told her the truth. He was being honest. He was a child , younger than her, with blond hair and ancient eyes. She turned away in embarrassment. Into the same face with eyes of youthful wonder.

"Should we change the subject?" Draco asked her, smirking at her discomfort. "Which house do you want to be in?" His smirk became a smile as she gave him a grateful grin. "Do you know about the houses?"

There was a cacophony of explanations as four first years tried to explain the houses to Hermione and Harry. When Gryffindor was mentioned, Ron Weasley bragged he currently had three brothers in that house. "If I'm put in anywhere else, I'll be a disgrace to my family.

Draco smirked as he said, "They won't change their opinion of you." He smiled at Hermione. "I'm destined for Slytherin. My family on both sides have been in that house for generations."

"There's never been a good wizard to come out of Slytherin," Ron said scornfully.

Draco snarled, "Typical house prejudice. I suppose everyone from Gryffindor is Merlin reborn. If you ask me, it's Gryffindor that's the house of rejects." He saw the chance to irritate Weasley. He asked, calmly, "Your bottle's empty. Would you like another?" He smiled.

"Slytherin is for the ambitious," John pointed out. "It's not the fault of the house that one of its members ambition was to conquer the world. I've been in Slytherin, twice." He paused to tell Draco he would also like another bottle. As he opened the new bottle, he added, "and I was in Hufflepuff, once. The rest of the time , I was in Ravenclaw. Probably because I'm always brilliant."

Neville frowned. "Gran was in Gryffindor. I know she wants me there. But my dad was in Ravenclaw and my mum was in Hufflepuff. I could end up anywhere." He gave Draco and John a smile. "Even Slytherin."

Harry admitted that his parents were in Gryffindor. He'd probably end up there. Draco told him he'd be perfect for Slytherin. "The house colours are Silver and Green. They'll match your eyes."

Draco was happy that everyone laughed at his comment, except Weasley.

Hermione wasn't sure but John assured her, "you'll fit in perfectly in Ravenclaw, where you can wear me down until I answer all your questions."

"I'd . . . ," Hermione blushed.

After a pause, Draco asked, "You'd?"

"It's stupid."

John laughed lightly. "Coming from you, I doubt it." Another pause. "Well?"

"I'd like to know," Neville offered.

"I was thinking," Hermione said hesitantly, " that, after everything we've been through on the train, it would be nice if we all ended up in the same house."

Draco laughed, then apologized. "Sorry. I was thinking of a Weasley in Slytherin."

Weasley groaned at the thought.

This time, Neville snorted. "I was thinking me in Ravenclaw."

"And me," Harry added. He smiled at Hermione. "If you're for it, I'll give it a go."

"John," Hermione asked. "Neville and the others have ties to Gryffindor. You've never been in that house?"

"Not much for bravery." He gave his impish grin. "I'll ask the hat, if you're want to give it a try."

Hermione smiled, then turned to the other blond boy. "Draco, what go you think."

Draco also gave an impish grin. Inside, he was groaning. "I'll ask the hat, but I am bound for Slytherin." As Hermione's smile faded, he added, "I will make it a point to ask, assuming I get the chance."

She looked confused. "Why wouldn't you get the chance?"

"Well, Mother said the hat barely settled on her head when it called out Slytherin. And Father swears that the hat never even touched him." He patted her arm. "I told you. If I'm given the chance, I will ask."

Draco relaxed as he made the comment. Once he was sorted, he could apologize. He had to grin as he said to Weasley, "If they sort me into Gryffindor, I'll even call you Ron."

"Don't bother."

* * *

Harry was enjoying himself. He wasn't even at school and so much had been thrust at him. He dared to comment, more as an effort to distract two of his new friends who clearly did not like each other despite having never met before. And he did consider both of them to be friends.

It seemed funny but Harry liked Draco because the blond boy seemed so sure of himself. With John after the accident. And during the regeneration. He seemed to fancy the girl, Hermione. Ron had admitted that was odd because the Malfoys were notorious purebloods. And the way he dealt with Ron. Making snide remarks then pausing to hand him more juice because he noticed Ron's bottle was empty

That was why he said it, "Draco, I wouldn't mind Slytherin, as long as we all were together."

Draco seemed surprised. It turned into a smirk when Ron asked Harry if he was serious. The smirk held as Draco answered the question.

"Weasley, I want to be in Slytherin. But. If we're all going to be together, it doesn't matter which house I'm in."

Hermione immediately came to Draco aid. "Ron, I was only making a suggestion. None of us has to agree." She smiled at Draco. "Slytherin could be fun."

"They won't take you," Ron pointed out. "Only purebloods go to Slytherin."

"Rubbish," John said. "I know for a fact there are at least two muggleborns in Slytherin. What happens, Ron, is that everyone believe that prejudice and automatically assume that they're purebloods." He laughed. "And that prejudice includes a fair number of Slytherins as well."

Ron looked surprised. So did Draco. Harry had to ask.

"Do you mean that if Hermione was put in Slytherin . . ."

John nodded. "90 percent of the students would look on her as Granger, that smarty pureblood." He turned to Hermione. "You are smart?"

"First in my year at my old school."

"Gran would have a fit," Neville said cheerfully. "I'm for Slytherin if it keeps us together."

"Ron?" Harry asked.

"I'll consider it," Ron said in a voice that said the opposite. "Won't make any promises."

"Now you sound like Draco," John said.

"We'll compromise," Hermione offered. "Ravenclaw." She smiled as she looked at Neville's terrified face, Ron's reluctant one (from his look he'd rather be in Slytherin), and at Harry. He knew his hesitation was showing. To be in the house of smart people.

"Hufflepuff?" She asked. She frowned. "I'll tell the sorting hat to decide what to do."

"I like that plan," Draco said. "When things don't work out, we can blame it on the hat."

Harry laughed with the rest. He felt something needed to be said.

"We'll still be friends."

"All of us?" asked Draco, casting a glance at Ron.

Harry paused, as though thinking. "Yeah, friends. All of us. Whatever may come." On the spur of the moment, he held out his hand to Draco. After an unsure glance at Ron. who merely shrugged his shoulders, Draco took Harry's hand.


	4. The Sorting

**A/N: I finally did it. I bought a new computer. It does all sorts of things that the old one wouldn't do. And it doesn't do a lot of things that the old one does. Like freeze up and refuse to shut down.**

**I was also looking for a ggod quote to through in here when I came across this. It's from Jason Isaacs: I think I was always a liar; **_**I just get paid for it now.**_

**Good reading to all.**

* * *

**The Sorting**

* * *

_I was never brave. I never learned to be brave. I did learn to control my fear. I learned never to run from a fight if it couldn't be avoided. I learned to run as fast as I could if given the chance. And I learned to tell the difference. I learned this by experience._

_I wasn't smart. But I was clever. I learned how to be subtle. I learned how to manipulate people without it being too obvious. I learned that there were times when I needed to do this._

_I was not what you would call a hard worker. I did learn to persevere. I learned that there are times when I have to keep at a task._

_I was never ambitious. I thought I was at one time. I learned that I merely had the desire to please. I learned that I wanted people to like me. I learned by experience that not everyone will like me. I learned that friendship can't be bought._

_I learned to forgive. I learned this by being forgiven._

* * *

The train arrived. Hermione and Neville left for their compartment to put on their robes. Draco gave John one of his robes and a spare hat. Even Ron laughed at how identical they were.

As they went to leave the train, John held Draco back, assuring the others that they would catch up. John's first question caught him off guard.

"How are you?"

"Um . . ."

"Doing Neville impersonations?"

Draco gave an annoyed look. "I'm fine."

"Shock's worn off, then?"

"Shock?"

"Yes, shock." John smirked. "You looked at me with a bloody hole in my chest and patted my hand when I grunted in pain. You never grimaced or looked away. It's called shock."

Draco hesitated before answering. John was looking at him with his face, talking to him with his own voice. It was unnerving.

"I'm fine, now."

"Good," John nodded. "Why are you being nice to Hermione? She is a mudblood."

Draco swallowed. John used the word with a sense of distaste. And the question hurt.

"Don't call her that. She won't like it."

"That's how you think of her, though. Her and all the other muggleborn. They're all inferior. Bad blood. If you aren't still in shock, then there has to be an explanation. You are the scion of the Malfoys."

John was smiling. His was a grim look that demanded an honest answer. And Draco didn't have one. He did, but not one that he wanted to admit to.

"I wasn't thinking," Draco muttered. "After what happened with you, I didn't think it would be fair."

John smiled. "I was only curious. We should be going."

John led the way from the train and to where Hagrid was calling for all the first years. He made it a point to tell Draco the man's name, that he was half giant and that he made biscuits that should never be eaten unless you had a death wish. The result was that they were both smiling when Hagrid noticed them.

"A couple of twins," Hagrid laughed.

A man put his hand on Draco's shoulder. He looked up. It was Munch.

"Hagrid, did they give you the message? This one is John Smith. He won't be Head Boy after all."

Draco stared in surprise. Which was fitting. Hagrid, and most of the other first years were staring at him. Hagrid broke the spell by speaking.

"John Smith? That really you?"

Draco tried to say something but he couldn't think of the words. He settled on shaking his head and pointing at the boy next to him. He could barely hear Eric Munch apologize as Hagrid laughed. Giving a grin of his own, he dared to glance at the other students. Most were grinning even if they didn't know why. The four biggest grins were on the faces of the ones who knew.

He spotted Crabbe and Goyle. Being the tallest of the first years, they were hard to miss. Both looked confused. He cautiously raised his hand to them but they didn't react. He would have to explain later.

"Didn't believe it," Hagrid was saying. "Don' believe it now an' I'm seein' it."

"The first years?" Munch asked.

Hagrid caught himself. "Yeah, first years. FIRST YEARS, FOLLOW ME." He added in a low voice that was nearly as loud, "Don' worry about John. Dumbledore will explain."

John was muttering shortly afterward that if Hagrid would only take the same path each year then there would be a path. Draco tried to laugh but he was too busy pushing the remains of bushes out of his way. At least they were the last two. Most everything was trodden by those before them. Then John called for help. His robe had been caught and he didn't want to tear it. He wasn't sure if the repair spell would work for him.

"Don't you remember all the spells?" Draco asked.

"I don't know how to cast them yet," John explained. "New body. I need to learn how to wave the wand, again." He looked at Draco. "I'll explain later. Help me get loose."

Once John was free, they headed to the lake. Hagrid was yelling four to a boat. Almost all the boats were full. They could see the problem. Harry, Ron and Neville were in one boat. Two other first years were in a second boat. All of the others appeared full and some were already on the water. Hermione was standing on the shore. Draco knew she wanted to go in the same boat as him. Both of him, probably.

"We're fine," John shouted as he led the way to the second boat. Hermione gave a wain smile and climbed in the first boat with the others.

Two girls looked at them. One asked if they were really twins. John smiled and said it was a long story. Dumbledore would explain. Then he introduced himself and Draco. Draco was trying not to stare. Both looked to be of Indian origin. Then he thought of something clever to say.

"Are you really twins?"

He smiled when both girls laughed. He even shook their hands as they introduced themselves. Padma and Parvati Patil. John asked about their grandfather, calling him by name. He assured them that he was telling the truth. He had met the man. Then he suggested they look ahead.

Draco looked up as well. The boat had cleared the small cove they were in and was in the lake proper. They now had their first look at the school. Draco was impressed. It looked grand. Even larger and more imposing than Malfoy Manor. One of the twins was saying it was beautiful. John voiced his agreement. Draco looked at him. The boy, if he was to be believed, had been to Hogwarts eight times before. The last time he was a first year was only six years ago. Surely he remembered.

"That was another life," John explained when asked. "I'm seeing it with these eyes for the first time."

* * *

It was all a blur for Hermione. The boat ride. Climbing the steps to the castle. The ghosts. The Great Hall. And the Sorting Hat even sang a song.

Now was the moment she was anticipating. And dreading. Her name had been called. She approached the stool and sat down as the hat was put on her head. After a brisk conversation (at one point she even laughed) the hat called out Gryffindor. Hermione gleefully stood up when the hat was removed and almost ran to the table, showing crossed fingers to each of her friends. She was greeted warmly by everyone and sat down to wait.

She applauded when Neville's name was called. He sat down across from her. He assured her that the hat said this house was perfect for him. Hermione admitted that she was worried about Draco. Neville smirked as he said she liked him. She admitted that she did.

"He's so . . . honest."

"Tell that to Ron."

"Neville, why don't they like each other? They've never met before."

"Their dad's don't like each other."

Hermione thought it was a stupid reason but didn't say anything. She would talk to Draco about it later. She looked up. Draco's name had been called. She remembered what he had said, and smiled when the hat did not say anything. After a minute, she began to hope. At three minutes she began to worry.

"Excuse me," she asked the prefect sitting near her, "Does the hat often take this long?"

The prefect, Percy Weasley, smiled and assured her that it always seems longer when you're waiting. "There's always at least one student each year that's hard to place."

"Then this isn't a long time?"

"Longer than most. I think the record is fifteen minutes." Percy smiled as he relayed an anecdote. "They say Uric the Oddball sat under the hat for almost an hour until someone realized he had fallen asleep. Even the hat couldn't wake him up."

Hermione smiled at the story then turned back to watch Draco. She knew it wasn't even five minutes, although Percy was right. It seems like forever when you're waiting. She was on her feet, applauding loudly when the hat called out Gryffindor.

The hat was removed and Draco stood up. She gave him her biggest smile when he saw her. He blushed and lowered his eyes. She blushed as well for embarrassing him. When he reached the table, she reached for his hand.

"You did it."

"What took you so long?" Neville asked.

"It wasn't easy," Draco said as he gave Hermione a smile. She couldn't help herself as she grabbed him into a hug, saying thank you into his ear. She felt him hesitate slightly, then put his arms around her and returned the hug. "You're welcome," he whispered into her ear.

A girl called Parvati Patil was sent to Gryffindor. She sat next to Draco and whispered, loud enough for Hermione to hear, that since he was taken, she would try for his brother.

Harry's name was called. The hall became silent. For less than half a minute. He was sent to Gryffindor as well. As he sat down, he told Hermione that the hat said but for her, he would have gone to Slytherin. He smiled at Draco.

"We would have been together anyway."

Hermione liked the way that Draco lightly blushed as he returned Harry's smile.

Now that Harry had made his comment, Hermione knew what to expect. And she hoped it wouldn't be much longer. Despite all the snacks, she was hoping for real food soon. It was already later than she expected.

John didn't take long, but he wasn't quick either. As he sat down, he assured everyone that he and the hat took a moment to reminisce. He sat next to Harry, making Parvati frown. She laughed a moment later and told him what she had said earlier.

Finally, Ron's name was called. After a full minute had gone by, she heard Percy Weasley wonder out loud what was taking so long. At Hermione's question, he pointed out that Ron was his brother and, being a Weasley, should have been sent to Gryffindor automatically. He took less time than Draco, but finally came over to a round of applause.

Percy had to ask why. Ron shrugged. The Sorting Hat kept insisting he would be better off in another house. It finally agreed to put him with his family. After the shortest possible pause, he added, "and friends". Ron looked around.

"Cor. Where are Fred and George?"

* * *

The Sorting Hat prepared itself for another school year. This one was to be more interesting than average. John Smith was to be sorted again. More curious, he appeared to have made friends. It had never known a John Smith with friends. This gave the Sorting Hat an emotion it hadn't experienced in a very long time: anticipation.

The sorting started smoothly. The first half dozen took less than five minutes from the first one sitting down to the last one standing up. Then Professor McGonagall called out, "Granger, Hermione."

The Hat was lowered on her head and her thoughts and memories opened before him as, the memory reasserted itself, as pictures at an exhibition.

"It's all here," It said in a soft feminine voice.

"I've a favour," the girl asked forcefully.

"Six in one house. That was the first thing I saw. Your strongest thought. And the other five are all boys?" The Hat shifted to the voice of Hermione's father. "At least they're all up to standard."

The girl laughed. Long enough for the Hat to recover its surprise. She was one of John's friends. Returning to its original voice, the Hat assured her it would consider the request. It called out "Gryffindor" and felt itself being lifted off her head.

The Hat hoped its choice was correct. John had never been in that house before. But he had never had friends before. It waited eagerly for the next friend to come by. Longbottom, Neville.

The Hat used a strong male voice, full of confidence. It told Neville that it knew of Hermione's request. Nor was there any problem. He had the quiet courage of the true Gryffindor. He was definitely going to the house that was best for him.

The boy was happy when he left, and half convinced that It had said those things only to cheer him up. It had meant every word. Neville Longbottom would never be a great hero. But if that hero ever turned around, he would see Neville standing there, at his back, ready to do what he had to.

The thought was still lingering when the third member of the group sat down. Malfoy, Draco. "It's all here," It said in the calm and steady tone of a professor. The tone became agitated as It added Its next standard phrase, "right here in your head." Its tone became one of anger and disgust.

"Slytherin?" the Hat asked as the boy made his request. "A weird thought, but appropriate for you. Slytherin is the house for the ambitious. All you want to do is get away from someone. Someone you don't like." It paused. "Do you know what is funny about this? The girl you hate admires you for your honesty while you want to avoid having to tell her you've been lying to her.

"Don't think about Gryffindor, either. Bravery isn't about running away. No one told you to tell those lies." It added snidely, "why don't we discuss the other two houses?

"Did you know that every time you enter Ravenclaw, you have to answer a question? If you get the question wrong, you don't get in? Let ME be honest, since you won't be. If I put you in Ravenclaw, you'd best put your bed in the hallway.

"How about Hufflepuff?" the Hat said in a cheerful tone. "The house that cherishes hard work. Hard work such as admitting your mistakes, admitting your lies, admitting your faults." The sneering tone was used. "Hard work that you won't do. NO. Not Hufflepuff. You, Mister Malfoy, don't belong in any of the houses. You don't deserve to be here. But," frustration was added, "I have to put you somewhere."

The Hat felt the boy mentally writhe at the accusations. It wasn't finished. It resumed the sneering angry tone.

"There is a place for you, Draco Malfoy. A place that's perfect for a coward of your sort. With those very people you've been lying to. Where you can twist and turn while you trip over your lies. And rot in your own misery." It shouted, "GRYFFINDOR."

As the Hat was being raised, it added, "Don't worry, you craven. Your excuse will be looking directly at you."

When McDonald, Morag sat on the stool, the Sorting Hat hadn't quite recovered. Instead of Its usual introduction, It simply said, "Oh, you're one of the smart ones."

Potter, Harry was easy. He was determined to be with his friends. The Hat made a passing comment and sent him on his way.

Finally, the Hat found itself lowered onto the head of Smith, John.

"Extraordinary, you remember . . . everything."

John was laughing inside his head. "Doesn't take long for you to catch up on things."

"True, and I will be honest. I was looking forward to finding out what happened."

"And a favour?"

"I see that. The Weasley boy. He is headed for Gryffindor, John. It's almost a requirement."

"He needs the confidence. We bodged things for him. He made a very good friend for that but now he has to share him "

The Hat assured John, then sent him on his way.

With only one other student left, Weasley, Ron, sat down on the stool. The Hat felt the boy's thought spring up and reveal themselves. What John was saying was obvious. Youngest boy of the brood. Nothing to set him apart. Most apparent was the hurt, not from losing a special friend but from having to share him. Not being the 'Best Mate' of the Boy-Who-Lived. It was a vanity, but it was also something to build on. And the Hat knew what to do.

"Ah, another Weasley," It said in a mirthful female tone. "I know what I'm supposed to do with you." It felt the boy's mental twitch at the word, 'supposed'.

"You have choices, you know. You don't have to follow behind your brothers. You would do well in Hufflepuff. Free to be yourself. Friends to help you find your own path. And work with you to achieve your own goals. You should consider this."

The boy liked the idea, but not enough.

"Or Ravenclaw," the Hat said, "and I know you're laughing. The house of Ravenclaw isn't the house of geniuses. It's the house of people willing to think things through. And you know," the hat lied smoothly, "if you were put there you would learn. Your best skill is your ability to adapt. And you would . . . if you care to try."

The boy was intrigued. Not convinced but willing to believe it could be true.

"There is another, perhaps better, choice." It felt the boy's hesitation. "You would thrive in Slytherin. You have ambition, and a Weasley in that house would be seen as someone special. Many would be eager to befriend you. You could be a leader," the Hat whispered in a tempting voice, "for whichever cause you choose." It followed the boy's thoughts. The temptation, the urge to give in. Then the expected happened. Weasley, Ron, thought of his brothers, which reminded him of the train which reminded him of Harry and the others. All of this happened in less than a second. The Hat chose the right moment to interrupt these thoughts, while they were still reflections.

"So be it. The house doesn't matter. Family matter. Friends matter." It paused just the right length. "Let me put you with your friends."

On the whole, it was a Sorting to remember.

* * *

The hat was lifted from his head, and the Professor pointed Draco toward the Gryffindor table. As he stood up, he saw Hermione clapping her hands, a grin as wide as the room. The words of the Sorting Hat were still fresh in his mind. Hermione was his excuse. His face flush in embarrassment, he lowered his eyes.

It was no surprise that she grabbed his hand and squeezed it, proudly congratulating him. Then Neville asked how he managed to get the hat to agree. Draco admitted that it wasn't easy. He didn't continue with that thought. He couldn't think of a good lie and the truth would be too painful. To admit that this was his punishment.

Suddenly, Hermione was hugging him. She whispered "thank you" into his ear. In that instant, he knew he was trapped. Everyone was watching, or so it seemed. Watching the pureblood and the mudblood. He had no easy way out. So he gave in. He returned the hug and whispered, "You're welcome". Once Father heard about this, Draco would be taken out of Hogwarts and sent to Durmstrang. He would even tell Hermione he was sorry for leaving.

When Parvati Patil sat down, she said, loud enough for everyone around them to hear, that since Draco was taken, she would try for his brother. A glance showed Hermione blushing. And smiling. Some girl named Lavender was telling Hermione she was so lucky to find such a good friend.

Then Harry Potter was sorted to Gryffindor. The Boy-Who-Lived sat directly across from him. Then he admitted that the Hat wanted to put him in Slytherin, except for the group being here. That caused the blood to rise to Draco face again. Had he been honest to Hermione, he would have had his dream. Being in Slytherin with his best mate, Harry. And Crabbe and Goyle in case there was trouble. Despite that thought, he was returning Harry's smile.

Everything would work out, Draco assured himself. Father would pull him from the school. He would never see any of them again, or at least for seven years. He came out of his reverie when Ron asked where Fred and George were.

"It must be a movie cue," said a black boy who had sat down while Draco wasn't paying attention. "That must be them."

Draco looked over toward the doors. The Weasley twins were entering the Great Hall. He palled as he saw who was with them. Professor Snape.

It was Harry who noticed. "Draco? Is it the Weasleys?"

Draco admitted the truth, for once.

"They're with Professor Snape."

John clarified. "He teaches Potions and he's the head of Slytherin."

Percy added, "He also hates everyone who isn't in his house."

"And you know him?" Harry asked Draco.

Draco nodded, while looking at the table. "He's my godfather."

No one had time to react before the dark figure of the Potions professor stopped behind Draco. The man's voice asked, "Are you . . . ?"

John acknowledged who he was. Harry gave a worried smile and whispered to Draco, "good luck, mate."

"I know who you are, Mister Potter," the Professor's voice said evenly. Draco knew how angry the man was. "Are you implying that you are friends with Draco?"

Draco cringed as Harry forced a smile. Even he didn't smile when Severus Snape was angry. He shut his eyes as Harry said, "He's the reason I'm in Gryffindor, Sir."

Draco opened his eyes at the sound of silence. He could see that Harry was looking over his head, the forced smile barely holding. "I'm sorry, Sir," Draco said without looking up. "For not getting into your house."

"We'll talk later, Draco." A hand patted his shoulder. Professor Snape added, "Mister Smith, Mister Potter", then moved on to the teachers table.

"He smiled," John said in disbelief, "at least the closest to a smile I've ever seen."

"He was smiling at me?" Draco asked.

"No. He was smiling at Harry."

A moment later, all discussion ended as the Headmaster announced, "Let the Feast begin."

* * *

"A curious sorting," Albus Dumbledore said to Minerva McGonagall as he spooned some of the vegetable medley onto his plate.

Minerva had to smile. She had Harry Potter in her house. And John Smith. Once Albus explained what happened to everyone, the other houses would be jealous for two reasons. The smile wavered as she thought of Draco Malfoy.

"Albus, that girl, Hermione Granger?"

"Yes. She is muggleborn."

"And did I see Draco Malfoy hug her."

Albus chuckled. "She hugged him, to be correct, but he did return the favour." He turned to his other side to look at the Potions Professor. "Severus didn't see that part. I am curious how he will react."

Minerva laughed. "I would worry about Lucius Malfoy. He'll insist that his son was tricked into my house."

Albus turned back to her. "I will agree to resort the boy if his father insists. I am curious as to the why of this." He nodded toward the Gryffindor table. "Do you see them? Considering his reputation, Harry should be the center of attention. John could also claim that position. But they are sharing it with Draco. The boy made quite an impression on all of them."

Minerva watched briefly, smiling when one or the other or the first years caught her eye. Once, Draco looked at her and she gave him a warm smile. He turned his eyes downward, as though embarrassed.

As the food disappeared, Albus rose to his feet.

"A few announcements before the desserts appear." The first announcement was about John Smith, how he had the ability to regenerate. He suffered a grave injury on the train and would have died but for his special form of magic. Instead of being Head Boy, he was now a first year in Gryffindor. He asked John to stand up.

Minerva was watching the table. Even though he wasn't facing her, it was clear that John didn't want the attention. What happened next was no surprise to her. John didn't stand up. But Draco Malfoy did. She slapped Albus in the leg when he started to say something.

Albus looked at her and their eyes met briefly. His began to twinkle.

"I should point out," Albus said, "I do not know the reason for it, but when John regenerated he took the form of another first year, Draco Malfoy. Please bear this in mind if you approach him. You may find yourself talking to someone else." He nodded at Draco and said he could sit down.

Minerva looked back as Albus gave the rest of the announcements. Avoid the third floor corridor. Avoid the Dark Forest. Avoid Argus Filch. She was watching Harry Potter. He was saying something to Draco Malfoy. He turned back to listen to Albus. He was smiling. John had also turned to face the headmaster. Harry leaned forward and said something. They both laughed.

Three boys. All three were different. And all three were friends.

* * *

Harry was happy. That was the only word for it. The world seemed perfect. He looked at Ron who was busy talking to Dean Thomas, and the Irish boy, Seamus, with glances at a girl whose name he didn't know yet. He would ask his friend later about Fred and George.

John groaned as the headmaster started to talk about him. "I don't want to do this."

"What?" Harry asked.

"He's going to want me to stand up. I started the day lecturing the prefects. I told a few students to behave themselves. And . . . I hate being embarrassed."

For some reason, Harry looked at Draco. For the same reason, so did everyone who heard John complain. Draco snarled. The headmaster asked John to stand up. Draco glared briefly at John.

A second later, Draco had the biggest grin possible plastered on his face as he stood up. He turned his head so that everyone could see him. Then he sat down. He turned to Hermione and said that now that she knows the truth about him, he'll have to talk to Parvati. Harry grinned, as both girls laughed. He turned around to listen to the headmaster and had a thought. He leaned forward and told John, "Draco, now you have to tell your godfather why you lied to him."

They both laughed as the headmaster told them to avoid the Dark Forest. A few minutes later, life became perfect. The desserts appeared. Directly in front of him was a plate filled with his favorite. Treacle tarts.


	5. The First Day

**A/N: I've had fun. A new computer. A week of vacation to do spring cleaning. The realization that one week doesn't make a bit of difference. Thanks to Colibi and Steve2 for the reviews. And I agree with Asj Johnson that it is fun having Draco and John switch places. As long as it isn't overdone. **

* * *

**The First Day**

* * *

_I remember a time. Hermione was holding my hand as we stood near the cliff, looking out over the lake. It was a serendipitous moment for me. (Hermione told me that was the word.) I had, in that moment, come to understand my brother. To understand what it was like for him._

_It was said that you can't go home again. I understand that, now. You can go back to the house. You can't go back to the childhood you had there._

* * *

Lucius Malfoy smiled as he came down for breakfast. His wife, Narcissa, was already seated at the table. She was reading a letter. She wasn't smiling.

"What is it, Love?" As he walked over to her, he noticed the Hogwarts seal. "Did something happen to Draco?"

"He wasn't hurt or anything like that," Narcissa told him quickly. She knew that was his first worry. "According to Severus, the sorting did not go as planned."

Lucius paused. "There wasn't any plan. I suggested he make friends with the Potter boy, if possible. It would reflect well on our family." He paused again. "What . . . did . . . happen?"

"Draco was sorted into Gryffindor," Narcissa said pointedly, "with his friend, Harry Potter."

"Gryffindor?"

"It gets worse, Lucius. According to Severus, the Potter boy was sorted to Gryffindor to be with his mate, Draco." She paused briefly. "Do you want more?"

Lucius cringed. "Why do I have the feeling you've just told me the GOOD news?"

"Draco has a girlfriend. They met on the train. She was sorted first. They hugged each other after he was sorted."

Lucius understood her tone. The girl was not appropriate. She gave him a slight nod when their eyes met. She confirmed his worst fear. A mudblood. He had to ask.

"Any other friends?"

"You'll find this amusing. The Longbottom boy, one of the Patil twins, a Weasley and John Smith. You do remember him?"

Lucius was lost in thought. He did remember a John Smith. The Herbology teacher. The man retired after Lucius's fifth year. The man's assistant, Sprout, took over. But there was something else about him. "The man died seven or eight years ago. There was something unusual though."

"Regeneration," Narcissa reminded him.

"How could I have forgotten that?" The memories returned. The stories. Smith became a boy of ten. Different hair. Different facial features. Even a different way of talking. "Wouldn't Smith be an older student? At least a sixth year."

"He had an accident."

Lucius sat down and read the letter. Apparently, Draco was a central part in aiding Smith in his recovery. As was the girl, Granger. That seemed to explain the what of the matter but not the why.

"Dearest?" Narcissa asked. "Shall we go this morning?"

"The Minister," Lucius told her. "We're supposed to have a meeting. It wouldn't do for me to miss this." He smiled at a thought. "We'll meet after and stop somewhere to eat. We can confront Draco when he leaves the Great Hall after lunch."

Narcissa laughed at the idea. "I'm sure he'll be pleasantly surprised."

Lucius agreed that he would be surprised.

Two hours later, Lucius stepped into the Ministry. As he registered his wand, a watch wizard walked up to him. The man introduced himself as Eric Munch.

"Mister Malfoy, the Minister asked me to brief you on the details of what occurred on the train, yesterday."

"You were there?"

"Not on the scene for the beginning, but I did interview those involved. "

The man escorted Lucius to the level where the Minister's office was. Instead of the Minister, Lucius was led to a small conference room. A brunch buffet had already been set out. They both took tea and sat down.

Munch explained who was involved in the incident. The boy, Flint, was being held pending his trial. His age would probably keep him out of Azkaban, but that was the least of his problems. The Weasley twins cooperated, telling him everything they knew. Dumbledore would take care of them.

A half hour later, Munch finished his statement and answered all the questions the best he could. He concluded with, for Lucius, a surprising statement, and a question.

"I've had the unique experience of having John as a mentor and being a mentor to him. Did you hear from your son, by chance? I'm curious if he was sorted in Ravenclaw again."

"Gryffindor," Lucius answered. He paused before adding, "they all were."

Munch gave him a questioning look. What he was thinking was obvious. A Malfoy who isn't in Slytherin? The man surprised him again.

"Your son's in Gryffindor? That's sure to lay a great many rumours to rest."

"Rumours?"

"From the war, Sir. Most people didn't believe you were forced to do those things." He gave a friendly smile. "This will make them think."

Lucius returned the smile. He didn't care what his enemies thought. He was now worried about his friends. They might think he had turned his back on their cause.

Lucius left the conference room deep in thought. He had mentioned Draco to judge the man's reaction. It was not quite what he had expected. The man's attitude changed from one of courtesy to one of respect. This was puzzling. From Draco being sorted into a different house? Was Slytherin's reputation that bad?

"Malfoy."

Lucius looked up at the man who was addressing him. The chief Auror. "Scrimgeour?"

"I read the report about the Smith boy. I also reviewed the results list of the sorting last night at Hogwarts."

The man was looking Lucius in the eye. He always did, but there was always anger there. This time there was . . . confusion? . . . doubt?

"Gryffindor? I was surprised. I know your history."

A careful answer was needed.

"After what happened on the train, Rufus, it shouldn't have surprised anyone." He paused. Scrimgeour was clearly thinking. He put doubt in his next statement. "Is it true? That Draco is considered a hero?"

"The Minister did suggest an award of some sort." Scrimgeour's tone said he didn't approve.

Lucius cringed. He knew what would happen then. Once he removed Draco from Hogwarts, he would be vilified. The Daily Prophet would have a field day at his expense. They would drag up his past. They might even demand a retrial. And public opinion could be behind them so strongly to make that happen.

"I'll talk to the Minister," Lucius said in a shaky tone. "That would be the worst thing for Draco." Scrimgeour was giving him the same curious look that Munch had. Lucius was only grateful he was a quick thinker. "To set him apart like that. He wasn't the only one involved."

For a brief instant, the Auror's face held surprise. It changed at once to grudging respect. He gave a polite smile. "I'll be seeing you then, Lucius."

The man walked away and Lucius cringed again. He knew Scrimgeour. The man used his first name. Lucius was being given the benefit of the doubt but he would be watched. For proof one way or the other. Proof such as removing Draco. Rebuking Draco for befriending a mudblood. (If the man didn't know already, he would know about the girl soon enough.)

There was no choice. For Lucius' sake, Draco would have to remain where he was. He would do his best to console the boy. As the clerk greeted him and led him into the Minister's office, Lucius was thinking. A public award for his son could only help his reputation at this point. And he would tell his friends that all of this was part of a long term plan. That should appease them long enough for him to find a way to repair the situation.

The Minister made it obvious that Lucius had come to the correct conclusion concerning his son.

"Everything I've heard, Lucius," Cornelius Fudge said, "and I've shared my information, makes the situation promising. I think that matter you wanted me to finesse can now be yours for the asking."

"I'm at a loss, Cornelius. Mine for the asking?"

Fudge smiled at him. "People have long memories. You know that. A great many didn't believe that you were coerced to do those things, during the war. But now, you son's in Gryffindor. The rumours place the Boy-Who-Lived as a friend. If that's true . . ."

"It is, according to Severus Snape, the Potions Professor at the school. He is Draco's godfather, you know." Lucius said. The conversation was becoming interesting. If his ideas were more acceptable because of current events, who was he to object. He would grasp the nettle for all it was worth.

"Marvelous. And the girl that helped him with the Smith boy. What do you know about her?"

Lucius smiled. His best political smile. "All I know is that she's muggleborn." He added, casually, "I'll be visiting Draco later today, because of the Smith incident. I will ask him."

It was with an easy step that Lucius left the Ministry. Fudge was more than happy to help. And not only for the contributions he was receiving. The recent events made easier his efforts to promote the agenda of his wealthiest supporter. Lucius flooed to Hogsmeade to meet his wife. They would have an early meal at the Three Broomsticks. Then they would confront Draco.

The only thing that remained to be decided was if he should praise the boy or rebuke him once they were in private.

* * *

Narcissa was amused by the revelation. Her son, a hero, would have to stay in the house of the brave so that his father, from the house of ambition, could make more money.

"Dearest," she asked as they approached the castle, "which would you choose? Blood purity or money?"

"Love, that is a ridiculous question."

"It isn't. Children are owling their parents, if they haven't already. Draco and this girl are sure to be mentioned. They may be friends. They may stay friends. It could become something more. You know as well as I do what a little liar our son is. If he decides to, he will live a lie and make everyone believe it until he gets what he wants."

"It's his worst trait."

"I don't know. He's so much like his father." Narcissa grinned at her frowning husband. "If it happened, and Draco chose to marry a muggle. Which would you choose? Blood or money?" She had an inspiration. "Weasley or Potter?"

Lucius grit his teeth. "If Draco wants to marry a mudblood, I'll disown him and adopt the Potter boy."

"Why not the Weasley boy? Potter is a half-blood."

"You're doing this deliberately, Narcissa."

"I'm only thinking of the worst possible circumstances."

That caused Lucius to smile. "If that's the worst, we'll lie and tell everyone that her parents are really squibs."

"And they'll believe that?" Narcissa was laughing. Of course they would. Everyone believed that Severus was a pureblood, only because he was sorted into Slytherin. If the girl married Draco it would be because she was also a pureblood.

As they walked through the main doors, a weedy haired boy stopped to look at them. Narcissa recognized him. The Nott boy. Theodore. And he turned away from the Slytherin table.

"Dearest?"

"I saw him. We'll wait. Perhaps Draco will be man enough to come out here."

She watched the doorway with her husband. The Nott boy walked past on his way to his own table. Shortly, Draco appeared. He was smiling.

"Mother. Father. This is a surprise." His grin grew slightly larger. "Not really. I know I should have written but," his tone became excited, "so much has happened. It's all so . . . fantastic."

"I know about the train," Lucius said dryly, "and about the sorting. And about the girl you hugged."

"You know about Hermione? Father, you'll love her. She's absolutely brilliant. She might even be smarter than I am. Harry says so."

"That would be Harry Potter, Dearest," Narcissa added. She knew he wanted to be firm with their son but Draco seemed so happy. Such a bright smile. Apparently, Lucius noticed it, too. He proved it by his next statement.

"Who are you and what have you done with Draco?"

It seemed impossible but the boy's grin widened even more as he held out his hand.

"John Smith, Sir. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"And Draco?"

"He's still in the Great Hall. He's trying to think of a good excuse for not being in Slytherin. Harry and Ron are trying to help him."

"Not Hermione?" Narcissa asked.

"She's too smart for that. She and Parvati are telling him he should just be honest. I owed him a favour and came out here in his place."

Narcissa could only stare at this point. Lucius had told her and seeing should be believing. She asked him, "Are you exactly like Draco?"

"Exactly, "John answered. "Same hair. Same eyes. We like the same food." He pointed to his inner thigh. "I even have the mole."

Draco appeared at the doorway. The Weasely boy had a supportive hand on his shoulder. Another boy, with black hair, probably Potter, had his hand on the other shoulder. Two girls and a boy she recognized as Longbottom were following.

"I should leave, now." John said, "It's family time."

"That would be a good idea," Lucius said.

"You're staying," Narcissa insisted. She grabbed the boy and, in a well practiced move, spun him around so that he was facing Draco. She was at his back with her hands on his shoulders to keep him from escaping. "You said you were exactly like our son. Here's your chance to prove it."

"You're not my mother," John protested.

"And you should know." Her voice became soft and demanding. The voice she always used to make sure Draco was being honest. "Tell me, then, young man. How long has it been since you've had a mother?"

Narcissa gave him her warmest smile. The boy had told her the truth. He was the same as Draco. And when he looked up at her, he swallowed his words. His eyes became moist. She knew what he was thinking. For all his age, he was eleven. His look said it. She had reminded him of something he didn't have. Except it was something he did have. Because he became Draco. She gave him her best do it or else look.

"You wanted to be Draco and you're stuck with it. I am your mother. Do you understand young man?" She was kneeling so she could look him more directly in the face. He opened his mouth but she didn't let him answer. She pulled him into a hug. He returned it at once. And she would swear she heard him utter the word, "Mum". He was so like Draco and Draco was easy to manipulate.

Lucius had his amused glare when she looked up. "Fine. He's our son. We can afford it."

He looked directly at John. "Since you're so much like Draco, you can tell me when he's lying."

John answered in the affirmative as he resumed his position of being held in place. This time, one of Narcissa's hands was stroking his hair.

Her husband said Draco's name.

John said, "He's lying."

Lucius glared for real. "How do you know he's lying?"

"He opened his mouth."

* * *

Ron Weasley was in a good mood. He was eating his lunch surrounded by friends. Parvati Patil had made herself one of their number, which made him more comfortable. It felt odd having only one girl as part of the group. He did think of them as a group.

Fred and George asked him the night before if John was their leader. It made him pause. He had to admit there wasn't one. John overheard the remark and said that no one wanted to take responsibility. That led to a round of apologies. The twins were also forced to admit that they were Filch's helpers every night for the next month. They now had a good chance of breaking their record of most detentions in one year.

He looked over at his brothers, talking and laughing with their friend, Lee Jordan. "How can they be so happy?"

"Relief," John explained. "What happened was horrible, but it all ended well."

"That makes sense," Harry said. "A month of detentions instead of killing someone. I'd be dancing in the hallways. Draco what do you think?"

Malfoy scowled. "I spent ten minutes trying to comb my hair this morning before I realized I wasn't looking in the mirror."

"You need to wake up, first," Ron chided. "John thought it was funny."

Ron looked over at John, who grinned and nodded his head.

Hermione sat down next to him with a happy look on her face. She bragged how she had owled a letter to her parents. She hoped they wouldn't be too surprised when the letter arrived.

"I need to do that," Ron admitted. "I know Dumbledore owled them about Fred and George. Mum must be furious. They might like some good news."

"Best not mention me," Malfoy admitted.

"Owl your parents, yet?" Ron dared to ask. It still felt odd treating Malfoy as a friend. He had to grin when the blond boy suddenly began staring at his plate.

"Draco?" Hermione asked. Her concern was obvious. "They're not going to be angry?"

Ron didn't want to hear the answer. He was trying to imagine how his own parents would have reacted if he had agreed to go to Slytherin. Another thing he felt odd about. After everything he said on the train, he had, albeit briefly, seriously considered it. Dad would have been disappointed. But Mum? She always said that Gryffindor was always the best house. And that Slytherin always had the worst sort.

"Tell them too many muggles," Ron suggested.

Malfoy snorted. "What?"

"Well, everyone knows your dad always brags about being a pureblood. Tell him Gryffindor had the fewest muggles."

"Do you honestly think he'd believe that?"

"Tell them the truth," Hermione insisted. Parvati agreed.

Ron saw Harry perk up, grinning like a loon.

"Tell him," Harry said, "it's because you wanted to be with your best mate, the Boy-Who-Lived."

"What?" That was Hermione.

"I'm supposed to be a living legend. It has to be good for something."

"That would work for me," Ron admitted.

"You're in Gryffindor," Malfoy said with a snarl. "Your parents already love you for that."

"Well, yeah, but if I ended up in Slytherin, it would have been a great excuse."

The snarl was still there. "And you would have considered Slytherin?"

"Yeah," Ron said slowly. He added defensively, "I have ambition. And . . . if I went to Slytherin, I mean, think of it. A Weasley in that house. With my family's reputation. Anybody decent would be begging to be my friend."

Malfoy was staring at him. Ron could only think that he had surprised the blond boy.

They paused as a Slytherin first year walked up.

"Malfoy." The boy looked from Draco to John, waiting to see which one responded.

"Nott?"

"For what it's worth, your parents are here."

Malfoy swallowed, "Um, thanks."

Nott smirked. "Good luck."

As the boy walked away, Ron turned to look at Malfoy, as did everyone else who heard the announcement.

"I owe you a favour," John said. He stood up and walked out of the Great Hall.

"John's smart," Hermione said with confidence. "He'll make sure everything works out."

"They'll drag him home instead of me," Malfoy muttered.

It was Neville who decided the issue. "Let's all go. If they see all the friends Draco's made already . . . Um, it couldn't hurt."

"They won't yell at you," Parvati assured Malfoy. "Not with all of us there."

The matter decided, they all stood up.

As they neared the entrance, Ron couldn't help himself. If the Malfoys were that stubborn, he could at least have some fun. He put his hand on Malfoy's shoulder. "I'll stand by you, Draco."

Harry, on the other side, put his hand on the other shoulder and said, "We all will."

* * *

Draco was nervous although he tried not to show it. The day started off badly. He was barely awake trying to comb his hair when his reflection started laughing. The morning classes went smoothly enough until he ran into Vince and Greg. Of course, Hermione was with him. They mumbled something like hello and walked away. It was either that or acknowledge Draco's mudblood friend. He barely heard Vince saying, "he's gone all weird."

Now he was trying to eat his lunch. That effort ended when Hermione mentioned owling her parents. Weasley, of course, asked him about owling his parents. As though he would even consider it. Then the ginger boy came out with the stupidest suggestion possible. Or so Draco thought.

Hermione proved him wrong by coming out with a stupider suggestion. If he was honest, his parents would disown him for admitting he was a coward.

Harry had a great idea, except that he had already told Professor Snape that Draco was the reason he was in Gryffindor. Knowing his godfather, his parents already knew about that. His greatest fear was that they might consider letting him stay. Father had 'suggested' he befriend the Boy-Who-Lived.

Suddenly, Draco was staring at Weasley. The last person he would have expected was saying that Slytherin would have been a good choice. Inside, Draco's heart sank. If the other boy could see Slytherin in a positive light, how low did that make him. His only desire now was that his parent would drag him away at once. To stay here with these people and continue living a lie was the worst thing he could think of.

Nott appeared. He gave Draco good news. Except Draco was worried. Would Father excuse his sorting and happily take him away to another school? More probable, Father would berate him for his stupidity and send him away.

John decided to take his place.

Draco cringed. He panicked and said his worst thought out loud, that they would take John instead. And, for all his fears, someone made a terrible suggestion. It would come from Longbottom. Instead of Draco confronting his parents, all of them would. Azkaban would be better than facing his father, now.

To make sure the situation was as bad as possible, Weasley put his hand on Draco's shoulder and said he'd stand by him. That Potter did the same did not improve the situation. That was how his parents saw him when he walked out of the Great Hall.

That was also when things became strange. John started to leave but Mother grabbed him and held him in place. She was saying something in a soft voice that only Father could overhear. At that point, Hermione asked, in a low voice, "is John crying?"

Mother was kneeling, facing John. Then the two were hugging. Father was clearly angry. As Draco walked up, Father demanded that John tell him if Draco lied. Draco tried to say something and John called him a liar.

"He opened his mouth," John said.

Draco blushed in embarrassment as everyone laughed.

"I . . . I can explain," Draco said helplessly.

"I'm sure you can dear," Mother said. "You must be Hermione."

Draco looked up in surprise as Hermione answered yes from behind him.

It was Father who spoke next.

"Eric Munch said that you're the reason Draco has a brother." He glanced at his wife. "I'm not sure how I feel about it but I know that Narcissa is grateful."

"Thank you, Mister Malfoy."

"Your name is Ron?" Mother asked, causing Draco more surprise. A glance told him that Weasley was also surprised.

"Yeah."

"And you had a part in this as well?" She said it with a hint of pride, confusing Draco even more.

"I was there," Weasley admitted. "That's about it. All I did was watch. It was mostly Draco. Him and Hermione." He was grinning. "Even Harry did more than I did."

"I only did one small thing," Harry said. "Draco and Hermione did all the work, Mrs. Malfoy."

"I was only following Draco's lead," Hermione admitted. "You should be proud of him."

Draco could hear the suggestion as an order. He knew how Father would react. He would dismiss all of it as trumped up nonsense. He would then drag his son from the school. He smirked at the thought that freedom was only minutes away.

"I am proud of you, son." Father said.

In that instant, Draco understood. For reasons unknown, he would be staying at Hogwarts. He would be staying in Gryffindor. He would be staying in hell.

"It wasn't all me," Draco said quickly.

"Liar," John said with a perfect Draco Malfoy smirk on his lips.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, looked at the group gathered in his office. The Malfoys were expected, true, but not in his office. And Narcissa Malfoy justified the meeting by saying that it involved John.

"Mrs. Malfoy, you have no claim to parental authority over the boy?"

The woman smiled at him. She nodded toward the two blond twins.

"Tell me, with certainty, which one is John, and I'll concede the point."

Albus looked at the two blond boys, dressed nearly identical. The one on the right was smirking.

"John is clearly the one on the left."

Both boys laughed. Albus hid his surprise. He knew the Malfoys. The boy on the right had the same smirk that their son always had. He conceded the point with one word.

"Amazing."

"When John, regenerated . . ." Narcissa Malfoy looked at the twins. The one on the right nodded. "When John regenerated, he took Draco's form. That includes Draco's attitude as well as his physical form. There are differences, but I've already found they act the same, for the most part."

"You've been at Hogwarts less than an hour," Albus pointed out. "How could you determine something like that so quickly?"

Narcissa Malfoy smiled. A smile that said, 'watch this'. Her voice was firm when she said, "John".

"Yes, Mum." John was grinning.

"That's one difference," Narcissa said, turning back to Albus. "Draco always says 'Mother'."

Albus turned to the boy.

"John. Do you consider Narcissa Malfoy to be your mother?"

The boy's smile held. "Albus . . ."

"Headmaster or Professor," Lucius Malfoy admonished. To Albus's surprise the man turned to him and said, "If I'm going to be the boy's father, I should act like it."

John was protesting. "I called him Albus when we taught together."

"You are a first year . . ." Lucius began to say. He paused. "You were a professor, here?" He reminded himself. The man had taught him for five years.

Albus was surprised for a different reason.

"John, you remember?"

"There was the time when you said I was too old to hold my liquor and . . ."

"I remember," Albus said quickly, with a chuckle. "I do believe that was the last time I touched fire whiskey." He tried to be serious. "You are, naturally, forbidden to tell that story while you are a student here."

* * *

Lucius Malfoy smiled at his son as they quietly walked toward the Gryffindor tower. Draco was almost sullen.

"You're very good at mood swings. Nervous outside the Great Hall. Full of mischief in the headmaster's office. And now, I would say agitated."

He stopped and forced his son to look at him.

"Draco, I don't know how you managed this mess. I don't want to know."

"Father, I . . ."

"Do you want to know why you are staying?" He smiled at Draco's nod. "Everyone sees your sorting as proof that I was telling the truth about my involvement in the war. Having this proof, they are willing to accommodate me in certain things."

"Money things?" Draco asked.

"Exactly." Lucius beamed at his son. "I've already decided what to tell our friends." He waved his hand in dismissal of that subject. "The important thing is that I stand to make a substantial profit from certain changes in the law. Changes coming about because of you. That is one of the reasons I want you to stay."

Draco still looked worried. "And the other reasons, Father?"

Lucius kept his smile. "Everyone is convinced you're a hero. They will rail against me if I do anything to you." He could tell exactly what Draco was thinking. "Yes, son. You're doomed."

They began walking again. In silence. Until Draco asked a question.

"Father? How much money will you make from this?"

"Two or three million Galleons over the next decade. At a minimum."

"I want a new broom."

"Done. You'll have it at Christmas."

"John will want a broom."

"Done."

"Really?"

Lucius paused. "I'll even send one to the Potter boy. He is your best mate?"

The nervousness was back.

"Draco, a word of advice. Don't do anything stupid." A pause. "And when you do, make sure you're not alone in it." Another pause. "It's never stupid if it's not only you. Do you understand?"

"Um . . . Yes, Father"

Lucius thought to himself that his advice was completely useless. At least Draco wasn't nervous anymore, although he did seem confused.

"Father, what if they find out, you know, that I'm not a hero. I only did and said those things because I didn't know what to do."

"Such as hugging that girl, Hermione?"

"Yeah. She thinks I like her. If she finds out . . . "

Lucius put his hand on his son's shoulder.

"It's simple, Draco. Keep going along with it. As long as you act the way everyone expects you to act, I will become richer. And you will have a larger inheritance."

As they neared the entrance to Gryffindor, Lucius smiled. Draco needed to understand. As long as he acted the good little wizard, the Malfoys could profit handsomely. If the truth came out, the family could be ruined.

"Is there anything you need, son?"

"John needs a new wand."

"I'll talk to Olivander." He smiled warmly. "Is there anything YOU need?"

Draco shook his head.

"Live the lie, Draco," Lucius said as he knelt to look his son in the eye. "Treat them as your friends. BE their friend. And don't worry about having fun with them. Your other choice is to have no fun at all."

Draco surprised him with a hug.

* * *

Narcissa smiled at John as she led him away from her husband and Draco. It amazed her how quickly she came to accept John as family. They took a different path.

"Those two need to talk."

"Won't help."

"Draco made quite a stir in a very short time, all because he helped you."

"He was in shock, you know," John said.

Narcissa nodded as she understood. Draco did not think. He merely reacted. "He has good instincts." She remembered about Hermione Granger. "In most things. The girl is not . . ." She couldn't think of the polite word.

"Appropriate?" John asked.

"Well situated," Narcissa decided.

John smirked. He knew the point she was avoiding. He noted that her comment left room to maneuver. She informed him that it was always wise to leave a loophole. The boy was grinning. Draco's face but ancient eyes.

"It isn't simply her birth. She had no choice in the matter. It could be excused. She has no sense of fashion."

"She's wearing a school uniform," John interjected.

"YOU are wearing a school uniform. DRACO is wearing a school uniform. The Granger girl has clothes DRAPED on her body as though function has no form. You can tell she's smart but she doesn't care how she looks."

"Looks aren't everything," John pointed out.

"Looking your best gets people's attention. It tells people you know what you're doing. They are more likely to listen to you. And, more important, to respect you."

"You could teach her."

"It wouldn't be my place."

"You have house elves. Send one over who knows grooming tips."

Narcissa laughed. "And what would a house elf know?"

"You'd be surprised." John was suddenly talking to her like an equal. More than that. As if she were the child and he the parent. "You never know if you don't ask."

"I'll ask, but I won't make any promises."

"Fair enough."

"I'm going to adopt you."

John tripped as he missed his footing. Narcissa kept him from falling by grabbing his arm.

"What? What?"

"Don't act surprised. It's an obvious move. You look like Draco. You act like Draco. Everyone will expect it to happen. You will become a Malfoy."

"I like being a Smith."

Narcissa laughed as she squeezed his shoulder. "The look on your face reminded me of Draco when he was six and I told him he had to take a bath." She made him stop walking and look at her. "You can still call yourself Smith, if you want. And you will still have your money and your lands. But you will be under my care."

"And if I refuse."

"Draco used the same tone to say he had taken a bath last week." She gave him a sly smile. "Tell me the truth. If you don't come to Malfoy Manor for the Christmas holiday, how many presents will be under your tree?"

"That's not fair. I'm only eleven."

"You are older than Hogwarts, if the rumours are to be believed. You know that bribing you with Christmas presents is absurd. But it worked. Didn't it?" When John nodded his head, she added, "and it worked because you ARE eleven. Very smart, very clever and very immature." She knelt before him. "Here's proof. Why did you call me 'Mum' in front of the headmaster?"

"Fine," John said petulantly. "I am immature. But that doesn't mean I'll grow out of it."

She stroked his hair and John smiled back at her. She knew why he would go along with it. He was alone. He was lonely. He now had friends. And he was very close to being part of a real family. That was something no child, no matter how smart or clever, could resist.

"Give me a hug, then had back to your tower."

John obliged her. As he turned to leave, she called him back.

"Tell your father I'll be waiting for him at the greenhouses. It's too nice a day to wait inside."

He nodded his head before it registered what she had said. He smiled and promised he would, then ran off.

* * *

"What happened?" Parvati asked, "outside of the two of you missing your first day of classes."

"You can borrow my notes," Hermione offered.

John looked around the common room. "We have time before dinner. Why not a walk? Explore the school a little."

Parvati smiled. This was not something to be shouted in the common room. Draco held the portrait open for her and Hermione. It was one thing to claim you were part of a group. It was something else to be instantly accepted. It was humbling and elating at the same time. And this was proof that she was a true part of the group. She had asked a question, a personal question it appeared, and was being offered the answer without any pause.

They were walking down the hallway toward the staircase when Parvati asked if she should have asked.

"They'll all know soon enough," John admitted. He seemed hesitant.

"Mother wants to adopt him," Draco said, almost casually. "He's embarrassed."

"It's not that," John insisted, "Well, it is. It's . . . Parvati, you do know that I'm older than I look."

"Hermione told me. You're fifteen hundred years old."

John gave her a sad smile. "I've been a wizard for fifteen hundred years."

They had stopped when the hallway crossed another one.

"I'm old. I'm ancient. By all the laws of the universe I shouldn't even be here." He wiped a moist eye. "When Mum looked at me . . ." he gave a small laugh. "I called her Mum." He looked her in the eye. "I had a family once. It hurt when I lost them. I didn't want another family. I didn't want to go through that hurt again. But I was alone for so long that I forgot the joy."

"Mother reminded him," Draco said softly, as though that explained everything.

John gave a whimsical smile. "I'm eleven and I have a family. It's going to hurt when I lose them but what is pain without joy."

Hermione sighed, "I love when you get philosophical."

"Not me," Parvati admitted. "You sound too much like an adult. I don't want to grow up too fast."

John gave an honest smile. "Neither do I." He looked around. "That looks promising. A long corridor with a stairway at the end."

"Promising?" Draco asked.

"I did a fair amount of running down corridors in the past." He saw Parvati's questioning look. "I was, um, usually running somewhere, well, honestly, most of the time I was running away from somewhere . . . someone . . . something . . . or other."

"And you want to run down this corridor?" she asked. The idea seemed funny.

"Oh, no, no reason to run."

John said that too quickly. He started to say something else when Draco interrupted him.

"That's a good enough reason," Draco was smirking. "No reason."

"How can no reason be a good reason?" Hermione asked.

"Because I'm eleven." Draco was wearing his impish grin. "And don't forget to yell."

Draco dashed down the hallway, screaming at the top of his lungs. John grinned wildly and followed.

In that half-second, Parvati looked at Hermione. They took of after the boys.

Parvati remembered to scream. When they came to the staircase they began running up. As they neared the top, it began to move. All four of them jumped anyway. Then they all laughed at how stupid they were.


	6. The First Week

**A/N: Sorry for the wait. I became lazy. I spent all of my time watching Monty Python. It can be addictive. I will be honest. I still prefer the dead parrot over the Ministry of Silly Walks.**

**I do need to make a point. JK Rowling never refers to specific dates in her book. The reason was so that the book could be timeless. Unless I give a specific date in a story, I always write it as though it is 'today'. Until this story, it was never overt, obvious, blatant and all those other words from the thesaurus. While this story won't be exactly today (It will pass through today if I post it regularly enough) it won't be when the books came out.**

**I don't need to make that point. If a story is good enough, people will read it anyway**

* * *

**The First Week**

* * *

_John was always an anomaly to me in those early days. Centuries were for him the way years were for ordinary wizards. Physically, he was my age. He acted old and young at the same time. He often confused me. It was Hermione who explained it. He was reminding us to be children. We would be adults soon enough. At the same time, we were teaching him how to be a child. We were teaching him how to be young._

_I once asked him how he could so easily accept my parents as his parents. He answered the question many years later. It happened in that first moment when Mother held him in her arms. She looked down at him. It was the same look his own mother had given him so long ago. A look of love, protection, trust._

_The question then arose. Why did Mother accept him so quickly? John whispered the answer. "Because she understood that we are the same."_

* * *

Harry Potter noticed early on that everyone stared at him. It didn't take long before he noticed that everyone stared at them. John Smith had his own reputation. And Draco, by default, was also stared at. As the week went on, Hermione began to notice that she was getting stares as well. What he found strange was that no one tried to talk to any of them directly.

Parvati said it was because they were always together. She admitted that few of the other students came up to talk to her, either. Most of them asked her sister, Padme, to talk to her. And the questions were outrageous.

Is Harry secretly a Dark Wizard? (Answer: If he is, he's keeping it a secret.). Is Draco a dragon animagus? (Answer: No. He's a Malfoy.) John has two hearts. Does he have two of anything else? (Answer - directly from John: "I've been asked that question before. Do you really want an answer?") Why does Hermione Granger claim to be muggleborn? (Answer - which no one believes: Just because Draco Malfoy likes her does not mean she's a pureblood. Merlin's Beard, you idiots, her parents are dentists.)

"I told you," John said as they sat at a table in the common room. "Let's poll the students. One question. Is Hermione muggleborn? One galleon says that more than half answer no. The wager is two galleons if we preface it with, 'Hermione insists that she's muggleborn'."

Fred and George conducted the poll anyway. Their official report, the following weekend, was that 59% know she isn't, 24% know that she's secretly a pureblood. As for her parents being dentists, nearly one third claim that she was probably adopted.

Classes were fun, however. Thanks to John, they were never lost. They had transfiguration as their very first class (for John and Draco). After a lecture about how hard Transfiguration was, they were given a simple task. Transform a matchstick into a pin. Harry, sitting next to John, had the best view of his first attempt.

John began by telling himself he'd done this eight times before. He pointed his wand, wiggled it a bit, then stared at the matchstick.

"You're supposed to be a pin. Why aren't you a pin? Think pinness. You want to be a pin. Remember that."

He pointed his wand again. He wiggled it again. He muttered that it worked that way the last time. Draco, on the other side, asked, "how did you do it the time before that."

"Same way, but a slightly larger wiggle,"

Draco nodded. "So the wiggle is correct. We only need to find the right size."

"And concentrate on pinness."

"Wiggle?" Dean Thomas asked. "We need to wiggle?"

"He does," Hermione said, "For me it seems to be more of a wave. Professor, I think I . . . Sorry, it's still a match. It's only shiny."

"Well done, Miss Granger. I'm sure you would have done better if you didn't have to listen to Mister Smith yell at his match."

"It could be the wand," Harry suggested. " Mister Olivander told me that the wand chooses the wizard."

"That is an excellent excuse, Harry."

"It could be the truth."

John smiled. "That's what makes it an excellent excuse."

"I HAVE PINNESS," Draco shouted.

"He's such a showoff," John muttered.

Harry watched with amusement as Professor McGonagall walked over and picked up Draco's pin and broke it in half.

"It only looks like a pin, Mister Malfoy." She repaired the match and restored it to its original form. "Think PIN. Not pinness."

She glared at John. She gave Harry an amused look when she saw him smirk. All in all, Harry thought, it was an excellent class.

Charms was fun. Harry's first surprise was to see the Professor, Flitwick, standing on a stack of books in order to see over his desk. He took an instant liking to the man when he asked which one was John. The man became his favorite teacher when he asked John if he was having trouble with his wand.

"Not sure. Only tried to use it once in transfiguration," John admitted. "Except for minor spells."

"Would you care to demonstrate the floating feather?"

John scowled. He pulled out his wand and cast the spell. Professor Flitwick pointed out that he used the proper enunciation and wand movement. Harry did notice that the feather seemed to jerk about. So did Flitwick. Harry had an idea but the Professor asked it first.

"Mister Malfoy, could you lend your wand to John?"

"Why? I mean, of course, but . . . why?"

As Draco walked over to John and handed him his wand, Flitwick explained how wands react differently depending on who uses it. John's wand was for his former self. Since he was now Draco's twin, Draco's wand should work better for him.

"And now we shall see if I'm right." The Professor smiled and had John cast the spell again with the new wand.

It worked. It worked loads better. The feather was now floating, swaying back and forth, up and down, as John moved the wand in his hand. As he lowered the wand back to the desk, the professor told everyone to take a feather. They would now try to imitate their classmate.

Harry found himself watching John more as the week progressed. John seemed the only one excited about astronomy class. He also did something strange.

"I want you to pair up for your first lesson. Each pair to a telescope," the professor said as the last of the first years reached the top of the tower. He pointed to six telescopes on tripods that had been set up in the open area. "You may consult your book for the coordinates. Your first task is to find the planet, Jupiter."

Harry found himself with John. Parvati had grabbed Hermione. Ron was helping Neville. Draco was trying not to laugh as a girl rushed to his side. He couldn't see which one.

"Jupiter," John was saying, He grabbed the telescope, twisted it so it was pointing a foot above the wall. He adjusted the lens. Then he asked Harry if he wanted to look.

Harry stared. John hadn't even looked into the lens. He carefully removed his glasses and looked. John had even adjusted the focus to accommodate him. He could see the planet so clearly.

"Do you see a black dot?" John was asking. "Almost on the equator and just to the right of the red spot."

"Yeah," Harry said in surprise. "Is that one of the moons?"

"That's Io," John assured him. "It's the closest of the Galilean moons. And the first one he found. Didn't know him then."

"You met Galileo?"

"It was a party. We said hello. I told him I admired his work. He said it was obvious I wasn't a member of the clergy." John shrugged. "I think the entire conversation lasted three minutes. Anyway, if we check back in an hour, we can see Ganymede"

Harry nodded. He had stood up to look at his friend. John sounded like he was bragging, but he also sounded like he was telling the truth. "And the telescope? How did you do that?"

"I knew where Jupiter was." He had that impish grin, as though he was looking for an excuse to laugh and he wanted a very good one.

"And the lens?"

"Yeah. I knew where it needed to be for me. So I took the thickness of your glasses and multiplied it by . . . Let's just say I'm good at guessing."

"You should be paired with Hermione. "

"No," John said casually. "You do know how she's always a little bossy?"

"The way you know a little about astronomy?"

John's grin grew slightly. "Parvati is giving her lessons on how to be . . . subtle."

"As in not being bossy? That's nice, but why?"

"She's getting a reputation."

"For being bossy?"

"For being a pureblood."

Harry had to laugh. "Who would believe Hermione is . . ." He remembered what John had said on the train. About Slytherin. He asked John to confirm his best guess as to why the rumour would even start. "Draco?"

"Purebloods for generations. Won't even talk to 'lesser folk' unless it's business."

"Nice night for the stars, John," Professor Sinistra said as he stepped up. "Find anything?"

Harry spoke up when John nodded at him. "Jupiter. John pointed out where one of the moons was."

"Not surprised." The professor smiled at Harry. "John was always a natural. He could always find any star or planet. If I know him, you'll know more about that planet by the end of this class than I do."

"You know all about Jupiter," Harry asked, laughing, as the professor walked off to help students who needed it.

"It's a gas giant. Largest planet in the solar system. Ganymede, its largest moon, is THE largest moon in the solar system." He grinned. "Anything else you want to know?"

Harry paused in thought. "If Jupiter's made of gas, what's in the middle?"

"That's easy. Water."

"As in . . . water?" He pointed at the lake.

"Close. It would be except that it's under so much pressure that it's actually a solid, or close enough." He did the hand wiggle.

"Solid? You mean ice?"

"Solid, but not ice." The impish grin was back. "You did ask."

* * *

Hermione was smirking as John asked Harry about his glasses.

"They look like they've been through a major war."

"Um. Yeah. They work fine."

"Um, are you making fun of me?" Neville asked.

"You said 'Um' deliberately," John pointed out. "That doesn't count."

"Croak," agreed Trevor.

As the four sat at the table in the common room, (it would be five but Trevor was on the table), reviewing the day's homework assignments, John reached over and grabbed Harry's glasses, ignoring Harry's protest.

Hermione was now curious. John was thinking of something. She smiled when he asked Harry how old the prescription was. Harry admitted that he didn't know.

"Madam Pomfrey," Hermione said, guessing the direction of John's thoughts.

"Maybe," John said. "Probably. I can't guarantee I can do the spell properly. We have time before dinner."

Hermione grinned wider when John returned her smile. It was such a small thing. Making sure Harry's vision was as good as it could be. She was the first to stand up. "Harry?"

Harry put his glasses back on. "Why are we going to Madam Pomfrey?"

"Eye exam."

"My eyes are fine."

"Then why do you need glasses?" John asked. "Besides, I have a better idea than new glasses." Now that he had everyone's attention, he added, "I'll explain on the way."

One hour later, Harry was looking at Hermione, grinning. She noticed how his eyes seemed to shine without the glasses.

"What do you think?"

Hermione had to tell him the truth. "Contact lenses were an excellent idea."

"John was right about the prescription," he admitted. "It's like seeing things for the first time. Everything's so clear." He had an idea and ran to a window.

Hermione walked over to where John was talking to Madam Pomfrey. Both were watching Harry, and smiling. She stopped to listen when she heard what they were talking about.

"And Professor Snape?" Madam Pomfrey was asking.

"Without the glasses, he won't look so much like his dad. My guess is he still likes his mom." John's voice had a serious tone.

"And Harry's has his mother's eyes." Madam Pomfrey frowned slightly. "It would be a miracle to expect Severus to change."

"He changed once. When she died."

"Is that when . . ." Madam Pomfrey stopped when she spotted Hermione.

"I remember. I don't know for sure, but I would bet anything I'm right." He turned around. "Well, Hermione. Am I a genius?"

"I, um, heard . . ."

"Are you making fun of me, now?" Neville asked from behind her.

Hermione screamed in surprise. She glared at Neville while everyone laughed. Then she blushed when she saw Harry was watching. She also nodded when Neville promised they wouldn't say anything to Harry.

* * *

Parvati smiled as Ron asked her the answer to the Charms homework. "I won't do your homework for you, Ron. You need to think it out for yourself."

"Don't know how to do that. I don't know where to start."

"You need to learn how to learn."

Ron smirked. "And you can teach me?"

This time Parvati smirked. "Yes, I can."

"Great."

Parvati frowned. Ron knew why. Fred and George were sitting at the next table. He could hear them snickering.

She whispered, "Your brothers were listening. They're now laughing."

"They don't think I can learn anything," Ron admitted. He remembered what the Sorting Hat had said. If he tried. He whispered back, as serious as he could, "I want to prove them wrong."

Parvati gave him a look. One he had never seen before. To be honest, he had. But that look had never been directed at him. It was a look of pride. He had to ask.

"Why aren't you in Ravenclaw?"

"I like a challenge."

* * *

Greg was the first one to spot Draco. He was alone for once. Probably because he was coming back from the owlery. He pointed him out to Vince. Vince nodded. They walked over to block his path.

"Draco?"

"Yeah, it's me."

Greg registered the tone. Resignation. He had been asked that question a fair bit and was getting used to it even though it irritated him. Fear. Just enough to show. He was wary but not scared. It would be best to throw him off track.

"How's Gryffindor?"

A hint of surprise. That was good.

Draco shrugged his shoulders. "I don't have anything to compare it with."

"No, dummy," Vince said. "He don't mean the house. He means, you know, your friends."

Greg smiled. Vince had a way with words. That put Draco on the right track. Now they would find out about Smith and that girl. Draco was flustered enough, now, that the next thing he said would be the truth. Greg added a well emphasized, "Yeah."

"Look. I don't know what to say. It just happened." He shrugged his shoulders again.

It was Vince who decided how to play the game. "Yeah, it's always like that with girls." He gave Draco a playful punch. "We're just sorry you're not in Slytherin."

As they walked away, Greg knew Vince was thinking the same thing. Their meal ticket was gone for good. True, Draco was a wimp and it was annoying to have to put up with his whining and his insults. On the other hand, they always had anything they wanted, including extra spending money. Hogwarts was supposed to be easy.

Greg sighed. He may only be eleven but he wasn't stupid. Playing bodyguard to a Malfoy was an easy job. Even his dad said so. Stand around, look tough, hit people on occasion. He tried to think where he could find another job like that.

"Hey, Vince. If we study really hard, we could become Aurors."

"Yeah, that would be great. Raiding wizards' houses. Stuff like that."

They both smiled. Greg decided at that moment that Vince was right. Draco Malfoy was just too weird.

* * *

Severus Snape stormed into the dungeon classroom slamming the door behind him. He had perfected this performance over the years. It put every first year in line. The smarter ones knew to be wary of him. The idiots learned to be afraid. He went through his introductory speech, putting as much condescension and disgust into his voice as he could. As he did, he cast his eyes on the first years from Gryffindor and Slytherin.

He settled his gaze on the black-haired boy in the first row. The one sitting next to Draco.

"Harry Potter," He said with exaggerated emphasis. Then he paused. "Your glasses, Mister Potter. Put them on."

"I, uh, I have contact lenses, Sir."

"Oh," He gazed into the boy's eyes. A vivid green. So much like Lily's that it hurt. And the boy's thoughts were clear as well. The strongest being that he didn't embarrass himself in front of Draco's godfather. Not the teacher. Humility and pride all in one breath. The hair was atrocious, but the mind. So like someone else.

"You have your mother's eyes, Mister Potter." The words were out before he thought about it, but he quickly added something appropriate. "I can only hope you have her aptitude for potions."

Severus quickly turned his eyes away. For one brief moment, he saw worship in the boy's eyes. He found himself looking at John Smith. His mind was always unreadable and his face was a mask. However, it was Draco's face. And that told him that what happened with Potter was arranged.

Severus hated James Potter. He wanted to take it out on Potter's son. Instead, his plan was derailed. He needed a new plan. Harry was Draco's best mate. As long as that was true, he would treat him the same way. In that second, he realized what he did. James Potter's son, had become Harry, Lily Evan's son.

"Mister Smith."

"Yes, Professor."

"Two points for Gryffindor."

* * *

Draco Malfoy looked at the rock he was holding in one hand. It had bits of currant in it. He looked at the cup of tea in his other hand. He looked at the boarhound with its head in his lap. He looked at Hagrid who was turned away to talk to Harry. He fed his rock to the boarhound. The boarhound looked at him with love and devotion.

Tea. He was having tea with a giant. Technically, a half-giant. Him and Harry. Harry was telling all about his first week of classes.

"And Professor Snape knew my mother."

Hagrid was laughing. "Yer the firs' boy I met who ever talked about Professor Snape and smiled."

"What's wrong with him?" Draco asked.

"He's Draco's godfather," Harry added with a smirk.

"Well, we'll let him talk an' he can be the second."

"I didn't get into his house," Draco admitted. "I think he's mad at me."

"Wit' Harry bein' yer best mate?" Hagrid asked with another laugh. "I think ye worry too much. Want another biscuit?"

"No thank you. They're too sweet. For my taste."

Hagrid accepted his lie and admitted he may have used too much molasses.

Draco smiled back and sipped his tea. It was bitter. He started to ask for sugar, then remembered his previous lie of a moment ago. He took another sip.

"How's the tea?" Hagrid asked.

"Fine," Draco lied. "The way I like it." He took another sip and smiled.

Now, it was his turn to be the center of attention. Hagrid had asked him about Hermione. Draco told about the first time they met, just before the accident. How she looked at him. Harry laughed and Hagrid gave him a knowing look. He took a sip of his tea. It was still bitter but he was getting used to that. He noticed it also had a flavour. That surprised him.

"She was star struck?" Harry was asking. "Meeting the handsome rich boy?"

"No," Draco admitted. "She didn't know who I was." He added softly, "I liked that. She liked me. Not Father's money."

"They fancy each other," Harry told Hagrid.

"She fancies John," Draco said with a laugh. "He has my looks and her brains."

Suddenly he was relaxed. Harry asked what it was like to grow up rich. He admitted it was wonderful. The manor was huge. There were always places to search, inside and outside. He was always spoiled. Everything he ever wanted. Either that or Mother convincing him it was something he really didn't want. She was very good at that. She had a way of telling him no while still making him feel good.

He looked up at Harry and Hagrid. Hagrid was saying something about that being more important than money. Harry had a wistful smile. Draco remembered that Harry was an orphan. And he had heard some bits about his aunt. He made a decision.

"You'll come by for the Christmas holiday, mate. That'll show you."

His mate grinned back at him.

* * *

Neville sighed as he put down his quill. His homework for the first week was done and it was still Saturday morning. John and Draco were still writing their essays for Potions. John was at eight inches of the four required, Draco was at three, Hermione was trying to coach Draco on what to write. It had been reduced to her dictating his last sentences.

Draco waved something away from his face. "Where did that stupid fly come from?"

The fly disappeared an instant later.

"Thanks, Trevor."

"Croak," Trevor responded.

"I thought you'd be better at potions," Neville commented.

"Too nervous to think. I'm supposed to talk to Professor Snape this afternoon."

Neville didn't even think about smirking. He knew the feeling. He had it every time that Gran wanted to talk to him. She usually began by telling him how disappointed she was over what he did (or didn't do).

"Do you want company?"

"You could go in my place."

"John could."

"Won't work," John said. "Snape wants to find out why Draco is in Gryffindor."

"Because of Hermione." To Neville, it seemed the obvious answer. Having said it, he understood the problem. Draco was supposed to be a pureblood scion. Why would he choose to be with a muggleborn, and a girl? "Because of Harry?" he suggested.

"Harry's here because of Draco," Hermione reminded him.

Neville patted Draco's shoulder. "When Gran yells at me, I try crying. It always makes her nervous."

Draco gave him a look of disbelief, the commented slowly, "I don't think the Professor is the nervous type."

"Want to explore the castle?" John asked.

"Love to," Neville said hastily.

* * *

Severus Snape offered Draco a cup of tea. He was mildly surprised when Draco declined sugar or milk. The boy was appropriately nervous as he sat in the chair across the desk.

"I am disappointed that you weren't put in Slytherin." He held up a hand before Draco could apologize. "I was curious. Why Gryffindor? Why the display of affection toward Miss Granger?"

Draco didn't look up. "She thinks I like her."

The remark deserved derisive laughter. This, however was his godson. Severus used a different tact.

"Because she thinks you like her? Why not tell her the truth."

"I'm supposed to be a hero." Draco couldn't have sounded more pitiful if he had tried.

"And the hero always gets the girl. How noble, Draco. You are in the right house, after all."

"The Sorting Hat wouldn't let me go to Slytherin." Draco now had a frightened look. "And Father says he can make a lot of money if I stay."

"A very good reason for a true Slytherin to stay in Gryffindor. But why wouldn't the Hat sort you there?"

"It said I wasn't ambitious."

There was something that Draco wasn't saying. What he did say, however, spoke volumes. To not be ambitious? Everyone who came to Hogwarts had ambition, even if their only ambition was to graduate instead of being thrown out.

"Draco?"

The boy finally looked up. Their eyes met. Severus saw what was in the boy's mind. What he thought of himself. A coward. His life a lie. He remembered having the same thoughts of himself at one time.

"If you need my help, I'm here. Remember that."

They talked for a while about other things. How his first week of classes went. Draco mentioned what Harry had said to Hagrid. He dared to ask about Harry's mother. Severus was honest, to a degree. They were friends when they were younger. They drifted apart through the school years. He decided to mention that she ended up marrying someone he didn't like. They never talked again after they graduated.

As Draco went to leave, Severus gave him these parting words. "Don't dishonour your house. Don't dishonour your friends."

As the boy closed the door behind him, Severus sat back down at his desk. He hoped that Draco would follow his advice. He wished that he had followed his own advice.

* * *

Ron finally finished his Potions homework only minutes before it was time to go to supper. He sighed to himself. Learning was not easy. He had been tempted to quit but, every time he started to, he remembered the words of the Sorting Hat. He wasn't going to give up. Even if he ended up with no free time. His only fear was that he would end up being another Percy.


	7. Interlude

**A/N: My thanks to Colibi for reminding me how long you've been following me. It also makes me aware of my biggest problem. I never learned how to properly respond to people when writing. I either come across as condescending, insulting or just pain weird. I'm entertaining, at least. At least I hope I am.**

**My thanks also to Asj Johnson with a small comment. I never thought of Neville as being a sissy for crying in front of his grandmother. I thought that the fact that he did it deliberately made his a typical manipulative, um, child. As far a being weird, well, he does have a pet toad that he talks to, so no arguments there.**

**Just a note. This chapter reflects the events of Torchwood: Children of Earth. I tried to write it without it being a spoiler. Despite its content, this isn't an action chapter so much as a reaction chapter. No one knows the full scope of the story. Only their part in it. I hope I did a good enough job. I'm sure you'll let me know if I didn't.**

* * *

**Interlude**

* * *

Draco was looking in the mirror. He was performing his morning ritual. The recital was in his head. You couldn't be overheard if you weren't saying anything.

"I am in Gryffindor. I enjoy being in Gryffindor. Gryffindor is for heroes. I am a hero. I am also modest. A modest hero is a true Gruffindor. I belong in Gryffindor. Hermione is my friend. I like having Hermione as a friend. Hermione is muggleborn, not a mudblood. Being muggleborn makes her no less of a person than a pureblood. I like Ron. The proof is that I call him Ron even though it would be more fun to call him Weasel or something. Money is not as important as friendship. I like Parvati. I like her even though . . . "

Draco paused. His excuse was rubbish. He should have realized that before now. It was the same reason he used for Neville except he used Trevor as the reason he didn't need to include his friend, anymore. It was decided. Parvati was dropped from the morning litany. Living the lie became easier.

The ritual over, Draco put toothpaste on his spellbrush. He held it in his mouth while it brushed his teeth, including between, and massaged the gums. Then he spit.

* * *

The first broom riding lesson. Neville almost took off on his broom. John quickly flew over to him. For the rest of the class, John was Neville's teacher, one on one.

Harry smirked as Madam Hooch warned everyone else be careful as there was only one John Smith in this class.

All they did was fly around in a circle but it was easy and fun, for him. Draco, criticized for holding his broom the wrong way, commented later that Liam Troy of the Irish National Team holds his broom that way, and he's the highest ranked seeker in International Quidditch.

"Father says that they've added Moran to their national team to replace Kirk. If he can't work with Troy and Mann, he'll be gone before the end of the season."

"Does Britain have a national team?" Harry dared to ask.

"Their rubbish, sorry to say. Father says the Ministry controls the choices too much. You get picked for the team because of who your friends are. You might want to speed up. Hermione is behind you."

Harry looked back. Hermione was indeed getting closer. And faster.

"Pull up slowly on the broom," Harry called back. "That's how you slow down."

Harry returned her smile then turned back to Draco. The blond boy was smirking. He nodded toward where John and Neville were. Harry's jaw dropped. The class was flying around in a circle. They had spent a half hour flying around in a circle. Neville was racing toward the ground then pulling up, usually well before the ground.

"It's called the Wronski feint," Draco informed him. "Neville needs to get closer to the ground before he pulls up." They watched as Neville crashed into the ground, rolled over about ten times and stood up laughing. "He needs to be further away from the ground when he starts to pull up."

* * *

Oliver Wood stared at the five first year students, six counting the frog, thirteen counting the rest of the first years who came to watch. One of these was supposed to be his great hope. McGonagall's suggestion was helpful. John Smith had enough experience. His first Broom lesson shown that he had lost none of his skill. The hard part was trying to see the seventh year student as a Malfoy mirror image. Unless, the thought crept in, he was actually looking at Malfoy.

"When the two of you are on the field together, I want you to wear name tags."

"Do they have to be our names?" one asked in a snarky voice.

Wood grumbled. Another set of twins. On the plus side, he only needed one of them. "Right, Smith. You're the reason we're all here. Show us what you can do." He watched the two Malfoys. "They were arguing. "Look, I don't care which one of you goes first. Someone get on that broom."

One of the group hopped forward.

"Not the frog."

"He's not a frog. Trevor is a toad." It was that bushy haired first year, Granger. She then wasted five minutes of his time explaining the differences between the two.

Wood picked up the toad and walked it over to the Granger girl. Before handing him over he looked it in the eye and said, "You are not going to be on the team." Trevor croaked sadly as he was handed over to Hermione.

Oliver turned to the two blond boys. He was getting annoyed. "Can't you decide which one is John?"

"It's not that," one of them said. "I'm not much of a team player. And I tend to be a showoff."

"You're trying out for seeker," Oliver pointed out. "You're supposed to show off."

The boy shrugged his shoulders. He grabbed the broom and flew around on it. He went through all the motions and caught the golf balls easily enough. Oliver was impressed. He handled himself well on the broom.

The other one was next. The weird one. It was like watching a twin perform. Although this one did most things slightly better. When he commented, John mentioned that a month ago he was fifteen inches taller. He was still getting used to it.

The girl, Parvati, went next. She was not as good on the quick turns as the twins were, but she was faster on picking up speed. She wouldn't be a good Seeker but she had Chaser written all over her.

Then came Potter. The difference was amazing. This boy did not have the skill from practice that the others did. All he had was instinct. And his instinct was amazing. He could only get better and he was already a match for the other three. The last boy, Longbottom, asked if he should even bother. Wood said yes. Always see what every person can do before you decide.

Longbottom didn't win any accolades. Nor did he disappoint. His flying was shaky. He caught most of the golf balls but some of them barely. He was clearly not a Seeker. On a positive note, he did an excellent Wronski feint. Wood guessed it was the one thing he practiced. He told the boy the truth. He had the potential, with more practice. Much more. On the other hand, while he was the worst of the lot, he was still better than any of the older students who had tried for the position. "It doesn't matter if someone is better than you if they don't try. It's the fact that you tried that makes you better than them."

Oliver Wood was no fool. You always encouraged someone. It never hurt. Do the opposite and it could come back to haunt you.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore sighed as Madam Pomfrey gave her report. At 8:40 GMT, every muggle schoolchild who had not reached puberty had frozen into place. Two hours later, they began chanting the phrase, "We Are Coming".

"Aliens?" he asked.

"Apparently," Madam Pomfrey admitted. "I had Professor Flitwick cast the emergency shield charm. It doesn't appear to affect wizarding children but they may try something else."

Albus was looking at the black-banded scroll in front of him. "They probably aren't even aware of us." Aliens rarely bothered the wizarding world. When they did. the results weren't always positive. Lycanthropy was the result of magic mutating an alien virus. He untied the band and opened the scroll. It confirmed his worst fears.

"The Minister says that it is world-wide."

"Definitely aliens. And this time we're involved."

Albus looked up. "The Minister says no. Their Prime Minister said it was being taken care of. Cornekius also orders us to put up the shield charm if we haven't done so yet." His eyes took a glint. "Because it involves children, he wants us to gather the names of all magical children on the list, especially the muggleborns."

"You said we weren't going to be involved?" Madam Pomfrey looked worried.

Albus smiled to make her relax. "At the present time, we aren't doing anything. We don't know what to do. All we do know is that it involves muggle children. The Minister, however, is making sure that magical Britain is safe."

* * *

Ron could only applaud Harry's good fortune. The fact that Draco was annoyed only helped his mood. To be fair, Draco's backhanded compliment showed that the boy was more upset with himself.

"Who," Draco demanded, "would expect someone to know how to do a reverse without even seeing it done before."

"You could try for backup," Ron suggested cheerfully.

"John's better," Draco told him. Then Draco smiled. "I know what to do. I'll owl father at once."

It was Tuesday when Ron discovered what Draco had planned. And it impressed Ron. He could understand the Malfoyness of what he did. It reaffirmed the family's friendship with the Boy-Who-Lived. Also, it showed the Malfoy subtleness. All the attention was focused on Harry.

It was a broom. The latest model from Cleansweep. He had to comment.

"Harry, that's the highest rated broom for Quidditch."

Harry was laughing as he read the letter. "Eight of England's professional Seekers use this same broom." He turned to Draco. "Thanks . . . I mean . . . What can I do to repay you . . . your dad . . ."

"Well," Draco drawled, "There's this thing called the Snitch . . ." He made a grabbing motion with his hand.

As they walked to Charms, Hermione even commented on how nice a gesture it was. She agreed with Ron when he mentioned his thoughts on why the Malfoys did it, and made him feel good by adding that it was clever of him to notice.

The first lesson of the day was Harry's new broom. Professor Flitwick took the time to ask about it. He then asked if Harry was as good on a broom as they said. In all, a half hour of class disappeared before the Professor warned the Ravenclaw students they shared the class with to expect a challenge.

Flitwick began the actual lesson by explaining the mild cleaning charm they were going to learn. He was pointing out that it was best used for removing ink marks from parchment but the careless student would find the text disappearing as well.

* * *

Narcissa was amused. One month ago, the invitation would have never come. Now, it should have been expected. Albus Dumbledore had talked to them, personally. The muggle world was in crisis. They could have resolved it with magical help had they asked earlier. As it was, the Ministry was taking no chances.

Dumbledore nodded, accepting the point. "The Minister has decided that no magical child will be hurt. I'm asking everyone I dare to. We need to make sure no harm comes to any of them." He paused. "Even the ones who don't know they have magic."

Narcissa smiled, a compassionate smile she was well practiced with. "Albus, as for Lucius and I. You know our views. About them."

"All you need to do is make sure they are safe," he assured her, "You don't need to interact with them.

"When?" Lucius asked. Narcissa knew what he was thinking. It would be good for his image. And it would be nice to get it over with.

"As soon as possible." Albus answered. "We don't know the specifics, but whatever the muggles are planning is to begin at noon, today."

"Three hours?" Narcissa was worried. "Is there something you're not telling us."

Albus tried to give a reassuring smile. "There is something the Minister did not tell me. Based on his tone of voice when we talked, I expect the worst."

Narcissa only nodded. It was an effort not to frown. That incompetent man should have been replaced long ago. He was useful but not in a crisis. Hidden Aliens. And he wants everyone to babysit.

She took her list. Three names. If the first was safe, move on. If trouble, contact the Headmaster's office via floo. The Head Boy or Head Girl would respond. If finished, contact again to make sure there are no problems. Lucius noted with a snarl that they had wasted most of an hour while the headmaster explained everything to the teachers and the other volunteers.

"Easy enough." Narcissa smiled. Her first charge was in London proper. A poor neighbourhood but not rundown. She apparated to the house, the door almost at the street. No one noticed her. Not that they would. Unsure of what to do, she knocked on the door. A woman answered, holding a baby of close to eighteen months. Both stared at her. The woman asked a question.

"What?"

A bright smile. "I'm looking for Anthony Carpenter, Junior."

"You're looking at 'im." The woman seemed angry and anxious. "Why?"

The smile became real. "To make sure he's safe. And that he stays safe." She added assuredly, "because of what is going on."

"And why 'im." Relief and doubt were in the question.

Narcissa decided on the truth. The woman would at least have nine or ten years to prepare herself.

"Your son has the ability to perform magic."

"Yeah, an I'm the bloody Queen."

"I could prove it, Your Majesty." Narcissa pulled out her wand. Her dress robes changes colour and style. She used her most motherly voice. "We only want to make sure your son is safe."

It took most of an hour. And a cup of tea with the woman. Answering questions and reassuring her. The woman stopped asking when Narcissa mentioned there were others she had to check on. She left with the woman berating her for not saying so in the first place.

Lesson learned, she made her second stop, also in London, a similar area. No one was home. She used her wand to search. It showed the boy less than a mile away. Apparating in the general direction, she tried again. Once more, and she was on the school grounds. She walked into the school and followed directions to the office.

Without even using magic, the boy, eight, was summoned. The headmaster introduced her to Adam Summers. She asked about his parents. They were working. She told him that she was there to keep him safe. The headmaster assured her that all the children were safe.

It was half till noon when Narcissa left with boy in hand. She had explained about magic, proved it to both the boy and the headmaster, then oblivated the headmaster before apparating to her last charge.

"That was wicked," the boy said as they suddenly appeared at a wealthy estate.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. When you're old enough, they'll teach you at school."

A man walked up to them. The butler, was her guess. He politely pointed out that they were trespassing and should leave. He then, still very polite, enquired on how they managed to enter the grounds.

"My apologies but my business is urgent. I've been sent by the Ministry in regards to one Victoria Westfield. To guarantee she is safe and kept safe."

"As my employer is active in the opposition, I must express my doubts."

"The Ministry of Magic." Narcissa emphasized as she pulled out her wand. She tapped the wand on the boy's school jacket which instantly became robes, still bearing the school's crest.

The butler merely arched an eyebrow. Narcissa's first thought was muggle or not, this man was excellent at his job.

"Madam, if you and your son will follow me."

"Adam is my ward."

After that, everything went smoothly. Victoria and the boy turned out to be almost the same age. The parents had stayed home and kept all their children home, just in case. Narcissa used their fireplace to let the school know that the children on her list were fine. Then she sat down for proper tea to wait out the crisis.

They had an interesting discussion about magic, money and finance. ( Victoria and Adam wanted to know more about the magic part.) For Narcissa, it was a surprise. Despite the lack of magic, the Westfields seemed a respectable family. It was a thought she had never had before.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy had the harder tasks, although he had no way of knowing that. The first name on the list was in Liverpool. A young girl, no older than six. She was at home with her parents.

"My daughter stays," the man insisted, a muggle handheld weapon pointed at him.

"Will she be safe?" Lucius asked. "That's all I need to know."

"You are not government?" The man asked.

"Not your government." Lucius also hesitated. This was England. Why would this man be afraid?

"My brother warned me. The soldiers will come."

"Then you should leave."

"The soldiers watch the roads." The weapon did not move.

Lucius pinched his nose, trying to think. His task was simple. In five years, the man's daughter would receive her letter. His task, which he regretted already, was to make sure she was safe. And now he was standing on this man's doorstep, trying to understand the problem.

"Do you have a fireplace?" If he was correct, it would be connected to the floo network.

"No." The man was now scowling at him. "Why would you ask such a thing?"

"Magic," Lucius answered.

"Akbar," a neighbour called, "is there trouble?" A tall man was walking over.

Lucius slipped his wand into his hand an wordlessly cast a shielding spell. He then turned to the approaching man. "IMPERIO. There is no trouble. Go back home."

As Akbar demanded to know what had just happened. The tall man turned around and went back inside his own house. Lucius tried to give a friendly smile.

"I am here to help. That man would have made things more difficult." Lucius had an inspiration. He even knew where to take the man and his family. "If you trust me, I can take you to a safe place in London."

"Are you a devil?"

"I'm a wizard." He debated hexing the man. "I can get you there by magic."

"Magic is the devil's tool."

Lucius took a curious step. He was standing behind the man. "It depends on what you do with it." He apparated again. He was back outside the door. "As you can see, I can make my way into your house without your permission." He said as softly as he could, "I am here to help."

A woman stepped up behind the man. "Perhaps not a devil. Perhaps an angel."

Lucius almost laugh. That was the last thing he ever expected was for someone to call him. The woman noticed his reaction. "Perhaps only a man?"

The man lowered the weapon and invited him in. He introduced his wife, his three sons, his two daughters. Lucius, choosing his words carefully, explained about magic, about their daughter, about his plan.

"What will my daughter be able to do with magic," the woman asked as Lucius prepared a portkey.

"What kind of spells? What kind of work? What will she do with her life?"

"Work? Whatever she wants. Business, government, service industry. It depends on her skills, on what she's best at."

"She could be a secretary?"

"If she isn't very good at magic, it could happen."

"And if she is?"

Lucius shrugged his shoulders. "Healer, Auror, Teacher, the better she is, the more choices she will have.

"A healer?" The woman was smiling. "I like that."

The family watched as Lucius cast the final spell. He then had everyone grab hold of the oven mitt he had used.

"Diagon Alley."

The results were hilarious. The husband and wife huddled in fear once they saw their new surroundings. The children ran to look at the various shops. One boy ran back and asked if they really used brooms to fly.

Lucius smiled and said yes.

It took some time but the adults recovered. Also, an Auror appeared to question Lucius about what was going on. He also agreed to take care of the family. Grateful, Lucius suggested taking them to the Leaky Cauldron.

* * *

Hermione frowned as she looked at John. She asked him what was wrong. He looked at her from across the table in the common room.

"Classes cancelled? Stay in the dorm except for meals? Something is going on. Something serious."

"There's nothing we can do." She looked toward the door. "John, it's Dumbledore." The headmaster was looking at their table. He turned to look at the other table where Draco was sitting with Harry and the Weasley twins.

"Mister Smith, could I have a word with you?" Dumbledore asked.

Hermione watched as the two walked out of the common room. She now knew how John felt. Something was definitely wrong.

* * *

Lucius went to his second destination. An apartment building in Manchester. With amusement, he took the elevator to the proper floor. He knocked on the door. A woman answered. A girl, almost of age to be a student at Hogwarts, was standing behind her.

"If you're from the school, she wasn't feeling well. That's why I kept her home."

"I'm from a different school," Lucius said with a smile. "We're thinking of inviting your daughter to attend next year. Under the circumstances, we thought we would pay an early visit. May I come in and explain."

The woman easily accepted magic, thanks to some spectacular accidents her daughter had. Time was wasted as he tried to explain about the school, simply to get the subject out of the way. Finally, he was able to get to the point. He needed to make sure her daughter was safe from whatever was going on. He asked about soldiers.

The woman smiled as she led him to the balcony. If he leaned over he could look in the direction of the school. She pointed out the army trucks. She had no idea why they were there but they frightened her. Why the army when the Prime Minister was telling them there was nothing to worry about? Why all the soldiers near the school when the children were only going to be inoculated?

"Is it only the two of you?"

"My husband's at work."

"Leave him a note so he won't worry. I'm taking you to a school."

Ten minutes later, Lucius Malfoy was standing at the gates of Hogwarts with the woman and her daughter and a local boy he had corralled. For two Galleons, the boy would lead them up to the school. Lucius apologized but he had to leave. The noon deadline was approaching and he had one more stop to make. The girl hugged him in gratitude before he left.

* * *

Hermione was still frowning as John returned. She wanted to know what happened. John laughed. It seems there was a serious problem in the muggle world. Dumbledore had asked if he could perform any serious magic yet.

"I told him, possibly, if I borrowed Draco's wand. That's when he told me not to worry about it. And that," he was still grinning, "was when Filch came running up, saying there was another muggle woman, this one with a daughter."

"But muggles can't see Hogwarts."

"Special circumstances. But that isn't the point. I have a new task, along with any volunteers who want to help." Most of the common room was silent by this point. "Giving tours of the school after lunch."

She couldn't help her curiosity. "How many muggles?" Hermione asked as they headed to the Great Hall.

"Strictly muggle, I don't know. We have about twenty guests waiting for us." As the reached the ground floor, the doors opened. Hagrid walked in with a family of four.

Hermione walked up, smiling. "Welcome to Hogwarts. You're just in time for lunch."

The girl of the family startled her by saying, "I'm just glad we're safe from the soldiers."

* * *

"Why did I agree to this?" Lucius Malfoy was asking himself as he stood outside the modest home. No one was there. He now had to waste time he did not have to try to find his last two charges. A pair of brothers. He now had to find the school.

An army truck went by the main roadway. Lucius apparated to the corner. If he was right, he would only have to follow. He watched as another army truck passed by. The soldiers in the truck noticed two people standing there. They did not notice the third person. Nor did the two people notice when the third person suddenly disappeared.

Lucius found the school as the last truck pulled up. Barriers were being set up. The adults were being forced behind them. As he watched from across the street, soldiers were leading children to school buses.

"Sorry, Sir," a soldier said from his right. His rifle was pointed at Lucius. "I didn't see you there. You need to step back."

"Imperio," Lucius said quickly. "What in Merlin's name is going on."

"We're taking the children to the pickup point," the man said calmly.

"Pickup point? Explain."

"It's the aliens, Sir. If we don't give them the children, they'll kill all of us."

Stupid muggles," Lucius thought, we should let them get killed."

"And why are you giving them the children?"

"I have to, Sir. If I don't, they take my children, instead."

Lucius was aghast. True, they were muggles, but this was unbelievable. Why didn't they use the weapons at their disposal? Why didn't they ask the wizards for help? As the soldier rambled, a man tried to climb over the barrier. Soldiers were pointing their rifles while another one ordered them to prepare to fire. In the background, children were being grabbed and pushed if they tried to step out of line.

Lucius remembered the last war. When they terrorized the muggles. When they attacked muggleborn wizards. When they thought they could win. It was truly a war. But this? This was madness. There was no need for any of this. He knew from his connections that the wizarding world could solve the problem. Even if these Aliens had the means to keep themselves invisible to muggles. And muggles had their own means to solve this problem if they used them properly.

Why this?

Lucius began walking forward. He made it a point to be noticed by anyone who looked. The man climbing the barrier had backed down. The shouting soldier was turning, ordering the new target to stop. He ordered the others to fire.

Six soldiers fired their rifles multiple times at Lucius. He stopped until they were finished. At his feet were several dozen bullets. He raised his wand. A wordless charm. Six soldiers fell asleep.

The busses were beginning to leave. Lucius snarled as he ran into the school parking lot. A dozen soldiers were running toward him. He waved his wand. The pavement in front of the soldiers buckled. Most of them fell. Large nets suddenly appeared above them. The nets dropped, wrapping around the soldiers.

Someone was shouting to get the busses out of there. Some of the trucks were stating up as well. More soldiers were running to where Lucius was. He pointed his wand.

A truck engine exploded. As the wand moved a school bus engine stalled. With the nearest soldier ten feet away, Lucius apparated to the other end of the parking lot. The lead army truck stopped in its tracks when the engine also exploded. The main entrance was blocked. Several soldiers fell asleep, were frozen in place or bound by ropes. Two more school bus engines died. An army truck headed out of the second entrance. A quick wrist movement and the truck flipped on its side. Blocking that entrance as well. The remaining school bus engines died.

From behind him, a man screamed. A soldier was about to smash his rifle butt against Lucius' head. Instead, he was falling to the ground with the aide of a small wiry man who had tackled him. The same man who braved the barrier earlier. Others were climbing over or pulling aside the barriers.

Muggle parents were rushing onto the school grounds, helping the children off the busses.

Soldiers were backing away. One, clearly the man in charge, was talking into a small box. Lucius searched his memory. It was called a cellphone. He walked toward the man.

"It's all bodged, Sir. Yes, sir, no one left. I've three dozen men down, all vehicles disabled." The man kept talking as Lucius walked closer. Soldiers began to prepare to attack.

"Order your men to stop," Lucius called out. The man kept talking. "IMPERIO. ORDER YOUR MEN TO STOP."

"STAND DOWN," the man in charge, shouted.

The soldiers stopped. They were confused by what just happened, but they did stop.

Lucius walked up to the man and took the phone from him.

"Good afternoon, please tell me who you are?"

"_Who is this? What happened to Colonel Manning?_"

"Lucius Malfoy. I'm here at the behest of the Ministry of Magic. And Colonel Manning is standing next to me like a good little boy because I told him to. Who Are You?"

"_General Curtis, UNIT. And I know about you wizards. You're interfering with a military operation. We told your Minister not to interfere. You are in violation of your charter. And your own Statute of Secrecy._"

"And you are kidnaping children." Lucius smiled. He was dealing with a bureaucrat. In a war of words, he had never lost. "Pursuant to the Charter between the Ministry of Magic and the Government of Great Britain, we have the right to protect ourselves from assault by muggles, answerable only to our own courts. I have broken no charters, statutes or laws."

"_That has nothing to do with this operation._"

Lucius smiled. "There are two underage wizarding children on these busses. I shall remove them and no longer disturb this 'operation'. Is that satisfactory?"

From the background noises, it sounded like someone had sent pictures of the scene. He looked around to see if anyone had a camera. A faint noise he had ignored before now attracted his attention. He looked up. A muggle vehicle was flying. It had large letters written on the bottom. "What is that?" He asked the colonel.

"Helicopter from the local news station. They're broadcasting the scene."

"Do you see this?" Lucius asked into the phone.

"_Everyone in the world is seeing this, you bastard._"

"Good."

Handing the phone back to the colonel, he smiled. "When you talk to that man again, tell him. What he and what all of you did today. That is why we Hate you muggles."

Lucius walked over to where a large crowd of parents, students and teachers were watching. As he put his wand away, the entire crowd erupted in applause.

Stunned was the only word he could think of. They were cheering . . . him. Totally useless muggles. His eyes caught those of one of the men in the crowd. The wiry man. The man who, in the best scenario, saved him from a terrible headache. Lucius corrected himself. Muggles weren't completely useless. He made his decision. He walked directly toward that man and extended his hand. Putting well practiced sincerity into his voice, he thanked the man for his life.

Keeping the smile on his face, Lucius looked around before asking his question. That question was replaced by another, only half asked. "That child . . . The children . . ."

"It's happening again," someone said.

The children were completely motionless. Except, he quickly noted, two of them. Two small boys with mousy hair were making their way to the man Lucius was standing next to. The older of the two was calling out, "DAD."

"Mister Creevey?" Lucius asked.

"That's me."

Conversation stopped. Every muggle child began to give off a high pitched screech. Lucius grabbed his ears to muffle the sound. He noticed everyone else did the same. Two minutes later, they stopped. All the children were normal again.

"The aliens," cursed Mister Creevey. "Ooooh. What now?"

Lucius looked at where the man was staring. A woman was running toward him along with a man holding a large camera.

The next minute was confusion. The woman, who resembled an oriental Rita Skeeter, stopped and began talking into her microphone. She paused to press against the blue-lit object in her ear. Then she stood next to Lucius and began talking at the camera. At this point, the colonel walked up and put his hand on the microphone. He whispered into her ear and she told the cameraman to 'turn it off'.

"My apologies, Sir. We've received word that the crisis is over." The man seemed about to cry. "Thanks to you lot."

"My lot?" Did someone do something? Another wizarding government?

"They told me you were Torchwood, Sir. We're standing down."

Lucius could only nod.

* * *

"You have to go home," Victoria was saying to Adam. "You will stay in touch."

"Will do."

She was happy. That was the only word for it. She was given a glimpse into the world of magic and told she would be a part of it. Add to that, the friends she made. Especially Narcissa. Thanks to her, she knew which house she wanted to be in. Ravenclaw.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy found himself in front of the Wizengamut. Mostly to explain his appearance on muggle television. Cornelius Fudge asked him how he managed to publically perform all of that magic, yet never revealed its existence.

"The muggle government. They told everyone that I was a member of a secret organization within their Ministry of Defense." He smiled. "Everyone believes it was alien technology."

"Amazing," one member said. " Those muggles will use any explanation to avoid accepting magic."


	8. A Small Adventure

**A/N: Another chapter. I thought I would take time to comment about the world I'm writing about. Most stories that I've read seem to show the world of magic as more backward than the muggle world. I'm trying something different.**

**The magic world is different, not inferior. In my view, for this story at least, the world of magic is more advanced in several areas. Witness the previous chapter, where Lucius took on, successfully, several dozen British soldiers. Also, it's shown that the wizarding world has common knowledge and regular contact with alien races.**

**The hardest part of this, or any crossover story, is blending the two worlds. Too often, one world will over shadow the other. Hopefully, I can avoid that.**

**Thanks for reading and feel free to let me know what you think.**

* * *

**A Small Adventure**

* * *

_I remember a time before I knew how large the world was. One day, I heard my father talking about other countries. I asked how many. For a while, I huddled over maps, trying to grasp the concept of an entire world. Not long after, I learned there were other worlds. Other people. My eyes turned to the stars._

_What were they like, I asked? Many were like muggles. Arrogant, vain, ignorant. The ones we mostly encountered were aggressive. These, we vanquished when necessary. The ones the muggles were powerless against._

_A few races were like us, not in looks but in abilities. These we could talk to, as a rule. Father explained that some of them had magic. Some of them developed their science to the point that they could do the same things._

_I was told of one race, ancient and arrogant. They had all but destroyed themselves. Only one was known to survive. He had a name. The Doctor. He had many forms._

_It was said that when the Doctor appeared, death would follow. My godfather told me, on a dark night with the sounds of the wind outside the house, that the truth was slightly different. When Death walked the world in its fiercest form, the Doctor would be there. Not only our world but others as well. He was called the lightbringer, the protector. To his enemies, he was the oncoming storm._

_Then I met John. I became his friend. I became his brother. In time, I would learn his true name._

* * *

September ended. Hermione could only be grateful. Especially after Professor Dumbledore explained why muggles had been permitted in Hogwarts. She had heard about aliens, had seen the pictures from London. This was the first time she had met people affected by them. She owled her parents. They sent her newspaper clippings to share with her friends.

"Draco," she said nervously, "you should see this." She handed him a picture from the London Times.

"That's Father."

Harry was looking over his shoulder in an instant. "He's . . . Hermione, are those soldiers?"

"They're firing at him. Dad said in his letter that the news clip went viral." She then spent several minutes explaining to Draco about the internet. She was amused when Draco asked if that was like information sharing. She then learned how it felt being lectured to. Wizards had a means of sharing their thoughts, via pensieve, orb, memory potion or even reading each other's mind. It wasn't used much for entertainment, though.

Surprised, she asked why these things were never talked about in the newspapers. Draco gave his impish grin. People knew about them. They read newspapers for news. That was also the reason newspapers rarely mentioned floo powder or the Knight Bus. Who went where might be important. How they got there rarely was.

The conversation came back to the picture. Was it real?

"Father," Draco drawled, "is an expert at shielding. The muggles could have dropped one of their bombs on him. If his shields were in place, it would have no effect, either." He smiled. "Combat spells will defeat an opponent. Shielding spells will make sure you have the chance to use the other spells." He added sadly, "It was the only magic he would teach me."

"You can shield?"

"Against minor spells. Father says that I'll learn well enough as I develop my skills."

"John?" Hermione decided to get a second opinion. "Are . . . Were you good at shielding?"

"Who cares? We missed out on a big adventure. A chance to meet aliens."

"I don't mind," Neville said nervously. "They didn't sound too friendly."

"Still . . . I want an adventure." Hermione smirked as he looked around. "Well. Maybe later."

* * *

Harry remembered John's comment. At the Halloween celebration, he reminded John. That was after Professor Quirrell ran into the Great Hall and announced there was a troll loose in the dungeons. The headmaster was sending them all back to their houses.

"We could go with the Slytherins. They're heading to the dungeons."

"Troll won't be there, Harry," John informed him. "Too many wards. Even a troll would turn away. Anyway, it's just a troll." He gave an impish grin. "If it were a vampire . . ."

"He's not serious, either," Ron quipped.

John looked offended. "I know what I heard. Someone was talking in their sleep. It's not my fault none of you remembered your dreams."

Harry laughed. "And one of us dreamed about being serious."

"One of you talked in your sleep about it. Kept saying the word, 'serious' over and over. I only mentioned it out of curiosity." John looked irritated at the laughter. "Fine, next time I'll get up and find out who it is."

The next morning, John was shaking Harry awake.

"I have a brilliant idea for an adventure."

"What time is it?"

"Almost four. Plenty of time for a quick adventure before breakfast."

Harry decided that John was barmy. On the other hand, Neville and Draco were already getting dressed. John turned to wake up Ron.

Harry walked down the stairs into the common room to find Hermione and Parvati glaring at John.

"You entered our dorm." Parvati hissed.

"That's the third time you said that," John noted.

"You can't do that," Hermione insisted.

"I'm sorry."

"No. I mean you're not supposed to be able to. The girl's stairs are enchanted to stop boys."

"I walked lightly."

Harry smiled, as did the rest of the boys. The girls were still frowning. He decided to ask the question. "Where are we going? For our adventure?"

John was smiling again. "The third floor corridor. I want to know what painful death awaits us if we go there."

Parvati groaned. "I'm going back to bed."

"You're not curious? A school full of, well, us, and we're not supposed to go this one place. It's like telling us not to eat an apple or that we can't have fire. Don't you want to know?"

Harry saw Parvati pause. He could tell she was thinking. She began to smile. She turned around and said, "Yeah, I do." He knew. They were going. All of them. Even if it was only to watch from a safe distance, which was Neville's plan.

The adventure wasn't very adventurous. At least at the beginning. They walked down to the third floor. Then down the restricted corridor. They checked every room along the way, finding nothing unusual. When they reached the last door, Harry sighed.

"Bet you a Galleon it's locked."

"Either that or we're on the wrong floor," Ron answered.

John pulled on the door. It was locked. He pulled out his wand.

"Alohamora." He paused. "Stupid wand. Hermione?"

"No. I shouldn't even be here. This is so against the rules."

"I'll try," Harry offered. He smiled when Hermione insisted she would.

"You didn't offer to try," Ron told Draco.

"Hermione wants to open the door. Harry already offered. Now she can do it and be indignant about it."

Hermione turned and glared at Draco. He smirked, After a moment, so did she. She turned back and cast the spell.

The door opened.

"She's such a showoff," Parvati muttered, laughing when Hermione turned.

"Neville?" John asked.

"He's here." Neville pulled Trevor from his pocket and set him down.

"You know what to do, Trev?"

"Croak."

Trevor hopped to a shadow near the wall where he had a clear view of the corridor.

"We have a watch toad?" Ron asked.

Neville nodded his head with a grin.

"FLUFFY!"

John's shout caused everyone to turn. He walked through the doorway and straight up to a huge three-headed dog. He grabbed the middle head and hugged it. The other two heads began licking him.

"Ugh," Neville said as he looked under Harry's arm.

"John?" Hermione asked as she led the group into the room.

"Fluffy?" Harry asked.

"He belongs to Hagrid," John explained. "He needed some tips on training him. I visited the school one summer, oh, sixteen years ago."

Harry and Ron exchanged stares. John was always surprising them. They turned back as the dog barked.

"Really?" John was asking.

"You speak dog?" Harry was surprised.

"Of course not. I understand dog, though. And Fluffy understands human." He turned back to the giant dog. "Are you sure?"

Parvati was standing by the left head, scratching its cheek. "Sure about what?"

"Well, He's stuck in this room, too big to get out. I wanted to make sure he was right by that."

"And?" Parvati prompted.

"HE is old, you know. More than a hundred in human years. He says it's big enough. And it's always warm, what with winter coming." He looked at the dog. "He wants to know if you can scratch further up." Parvati raised her hand higher. Fluffy began wagging his tail. Harry laughed as she called him a cute little thing.

"What's that?" Neville asked as he pointed to the floor.

"Trap door," John answered as he scratched the top of the middle head. "Draco? Ron? Can someone get the other head? He's really enjoying this."

Draco walked over and began scratching the right head. Ron went over to help. He walked away after the grateful head gave him the full force of its tongue.

As Neville told Ron he smelled terrible, Harry asked what was beneath the trap door.

"Traps," John answered. "Come now, Harry. You're smart enough. You should have figured that out for yourself. Who's a cute widdle puppy wumpkin?" The last line wasn't directed at Harry.

"Croak."

Trevor was at the door, hopping into the room. Neville ran over and closed the door. "I heard a cat," he whispered.

"Good going, Trevor," Harry said to the toad.

"Croak," came the reply, grateful for the acknowledgment. Harry smiled to himself. It seems he understood.

Everyone tried to be as quiet as possible, the only movement from three students scratching and petting the huge Cerberus. After several minutes, Fluffy let out a low bark.

"They're gone," Draco said.

"You understand dog?" Ron asked.

"I understand toad," Harry commented. When Ron glared at him, he added, "Right, Trevor?"

"Croak."

Harry decided. He was going to buy someone a gift.

The middle head barked. John said it was not a problem.

"Is he hungry?" Ron asked. Sarcasm was obvious in his voice.

"Naw. It's his nap time. He wants to know if we can sing him a song."

Hermione groaned.

"Does he have a favorite lullaby?" Ron asked. Some dog saliva dripped off his robes.

"Jerusalem." John, wetter than Ron, was smiling.

Harry frowned. "As in 'Did those feet in ancient times' Jerusalem?"

John nodded.

John nodded again.

Harry understood. He knew the words. He was expected to sing. He looked at Ron. Ron was smirking. He glared at Ron. He turned to Neville. Neville gave him a thumbs up. He glared at Neville. He looked at the dog. Six huge puppy dog eyes were looking at him in anticipation. Harry sighed before taking a deep breath.

_And did those feet in ancient times / Walk upon England's mountains green / and was the holy Lamb of God / on England's pleasant pastures seen_

He was relieved when Hermione joined in, and John as well.

_And did the countenance divine / shine forth upon clouded hills? / And was Jerusalem built here / amongst these dark Satanic mills?_

"He loves this part," John commented.

"So do I," Hermione replied.

Fluffy was sitting down. As they sang the next stanza, he slowly lowered his heads.

_Bring me my Bow of Burning Gold / Bring me my Arrows of Desire / Bring me my Spear: Oh, clouds unfold! / Bring me my Chariot of Fire!_

_I shall not cease from mental fight / Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand / till we have built Jerusalem / in England's green and pleasant land._

By the time the three of them had stopped, Fluffy was fast asleep.

* * *

John had tricked her. Parvati knew that. It was childish, but she did want to know about the corridor. If it was only her, she would never go. But it was them. They were all going. And for only one reason. Everyone else was going.

And now, her hand was resting on an ear of a giant dog. A giant sleeping dog. She looked up at John. The boy was grinning from ear to ear. He had his adventure. And so did she. She made a new friend. An unlikely friend.

As they left the room, she turned to Hermione. "I want you to teach me that song."

"For when we come back?" Hermione asked.

Parvati smiled. That was why she liked the bushy haired girl. They were kindred spirits.

At breakfast, she gave John a happy smile. "You still smell, you know."

"So does Ron, but don't tell him. I don't think he likes dogs."

* * *

Ron was annoyed. Draco had the chance to pet the giant dog. He had to take two showers and he still had Fluffy smell on him. It wasn't fair. On the other hand, he was able to let Fred and George bribe him with two chocolate frogs to tell them what happened. One of the cards was Ptolemy. All he needed now was Agrippa and he had the complete set. Breakfast was becoming wonderful.

"Merlin. Again." He had a thought. "John, is this really Merlin?" He showed him the card.

"Yeah, in his later years." John waved at the picture. Harry laughed and gave it a wave as well.

"So Morgan Ley Fey and Mordred looked like their pictures, too?"

"I thought his name was Modred," Hermione commented.

"Both." John was smirking. "When most people can't write, Names get spelled the way they sound to the person doing the writing. Anyway, he's Welsh. It's pronounced 'Maw-drid'."

Curiosity made Ron ask. "Were they evil?"

"Naw. They just didn't get along. Not all families do. And Arthur wasn't Modred's father, either. He adopted his nephew when his sister ran into problems. That would be Morgaine."

"I thought Morguese, her sister, was Modred's mother?" Ron thought he knew all the legends.

Now John was annoyed. "It also says that Guenevere ran away with Lancelot. Lancelot was made up. And Morguese wasn't Morgan's sister. She was her aunt. She was married to the King of Cornwall. Morgan's husband was his second son, but he died in what was officially called a hunting accident. (By the way, a local woodcutter was hanged for killing his wife and the prince, in his hut. The real story is not age appropriate.) Morgan sent Modred to Arthur when King Madog decided she should marry one of his nephews."

"Did they kill each other?" Hermione was asked. "Arthur and Modred."

"No. That only happened in fiction. The histories note that they did die in battle at Camlann."

Ron didn't care about breakfast. He was learning history. From someone who was there.

"Morgan ran away to Camelot when she found out who her future husband was. And they refused to give her up. Madog offered to forget the insult if Modred married his granddaughter. If Modred married that princess, none of it would ever have happened."

John laughed at a memory. "She wasn't that ugly, mind you. Okay, she was that ugly, but her grandfather was a powerful king."

Parvati was laughing as well. "John's right. Most kings married off their sons and daughters for money or land or power. If you were part of the nobility, you almost never married for love."

Even Ron felt disgusted at the thought. "And they fought a war over it?"

"A battle. Only about two hundred people were involved. Arthur WAS overconfident. He was also over fifty. That was old for back then. And Modred was in his twenties."

John's smile faded.

"Arthur's son, Amr, told Guenevere what happened. I was with Merlin when he told Modred's sons about their father."

"Wait," Hermione insisted. "Modred was already married?"

"Widowed. His wife dies in childbirth, along with his only daughter."

As Hermione became quiet, Ron was nodding his head. He stopped when he realized he didn't understand something. "The battle. Why didn't Merlin stop them? He was a great wizard, after all."

"Oh, that's easy to explain, you know, honour and all that."

"Did you try?" Hermione asked.

"Remember about the arrow. It happened about two years before. I was only Merlin's apprentice. Even Modred had a decade on me. And all my knowledge at that time was two years old. I didn't remember anything about Merlin's plans for Camelot."

"What happened to Modred's sons, then?" Ron asked.

"Don't know," John answered. "I lost track of them. A century later, I regenerated again and didn't even remember Merlin. Ask Draco."

Ron was confused. "Why Draco?" He looked over at the other blond boy. This one was grinning.

"Direct male descendent. I'll owl father to send me a copy of the family history. You can read about it."

Ron was stunned. Here he was. A Weasley. He could trace their family line back over five hundred years to no one of any importance. And there was Malfoy. Filthy rich Malfoy. With a history that included people who talked to Merlin on a daily basis. It wasn't fair. Ron was annoyed, again.

* * *

Draco was annoyed. John disappeared with Father, Sunday morning. He returned in time for lunch with a new wand. Exactly like Draco's except it was a quarter inch shorter. All the next week, John began performing spells he couldn't do properly before. It was Saturday morning, and John was practicing advanced spells with Hermione. The only class that he was still better than John in was Potions.

It was small consolation that he was practicing with them. Not as successful but at least he wasn't embarrassing himself. He knew it was only a matter of time before John's skills surpassed even Hermione.

Harry stuck his head into the room. He was heading down to the pitch to change. It was his first match. They were playing Slytherin.

That was the signal. They headed back to the common room to where the rest of the group was waiting.

"Is he any good?" Parvati asked.

Hermione grinned. "He's brill. All he needed was the right wand. Next weekend, he's teaching me second year spells."

John twirled his new wand and stuck it inside his robes. "Naw, we still have half the first year spells to go through." He grinned at Hermione. "We'll try to start third year spells before Christmas."

Draco groaned.

John clasped his shoulder. "You'll love third year spells."

"Do you really think I'm that good?"

"You're as good as I am." John had that impish grin. "And you know it."

Draco had to laugh. "It sounds like fun."

As they walked to the pitch, everyone started talking about Harry. Or what a cold day it was. Ron was telling them that Harry was a natural. They were sure to win. It would be good to finally beat Slytherin. "Gryffindor haven't won a match since my brother Charlie graduated."

Draco smiled but without feeling. How would his godfather feel if Harry caught the snitch. Professor Snape was always polite to Harry. If that was the right word. And not only because he was Draco's friend. The man had been close to Harry's mother in their early years at school.

He smirked as he remembered their last Potions class. Professor Snape walked up to their table.

"Harry, you know, your mother once brewed a sleeping potion so fine that half the class fell asleep before anyone realized what was happening." His voice was surprisingly calm. "In your case, I fear the entire class would fall asleep before you even finished your preparations." His voice became slightly mocking. "Perhaps you take after your father, you poor lad."

"Slowcoach," Hermione called. "Daydream later. I want to see the Quidditch match."

Draco looked up. Everyone was fifteen feet in front of him. Blushing at their laughter, he ran to catch up.

"He likes Harry," Hermione said after Draco explained why he had slowed.

"Not us, though," Ron added.

At John's insistence, Hermione explained. "We were in the courtyard yesterday, after classes. Harry was reading the book I gave him, Quidditch through the Ages. Snape came by."

"He glared at me and Hermione," Ron noted.

Hermione glared at him, then went back to her story. "He looked at the book that Harry was reading. Then he said, 'good luck in the tomorrow's match, Harry.' And I swear he smiled. He started to walk away, but he stopped and said, 'considering who you're playing, I hope you aren't THAT lucky."

"Then he scowled at us," Ron added, "before he left."

John was smiling as though he was the reason it happened.

* * *

Draco was ready to hit Ron. Only two things were stopping him. The fact that John had grabbed his right atm and Neville had grabbed his left. Ron was refraining from hitting Draco because Parvati was standing in front of him, eye to eye.

"You don't know the truth," Parvati was saying.

"I saw him," Hermione pointed out. "He was chanting something and he wasn't blinking."

"And he was staring directly at Harry," Ron added, angrily. "You saw it, too."

"And it's a good thing," Harry said as he walked into the common room.

Draco saw Harry scan the room. The slight smile as their eyes met. The frown as he realized almost all of Gryffindor were staring at him.

"No broken bones, Harry?" Fred Weasley asked.

"Madam Pomfrey said I was fine."

"Good," George commented, "Now explain this good thing Snape did. It wasn't that hex on your broom, was it?"

Harry tried to glare but it had too much humour in it. "It was the countercurse to the hex. The one that gave the two of you time to rescue me. He told me on our way to the infirmary."

"Countercurse?" Ron asked, refusing to believe that Snape would do such a thing.

"My mother was his best mate at school, Ron. Why wouldn't he help her son?"

Oliver Wood wasn't smiling. "And the fact that the Slytherin seeker caught the snitch in the meantime had nothing to do with it."

Harry was grinning. "Professor Snape said that he considered it his reward for doing a good deed." He paused. "He also said he's taking Madame Hooch's place for our next match. If he's on the pitch, he can make sure it doesn't happen again."

Draco noticed that John was smiling. He also noticed that his hands were free. His first thought was to hit Ron, anyway. His second thought was to ask the unasked question.

"Harry?"

"He doesn't know who it was."

"Doesn't matter," Oliver said. "I've already talked to Madam Hooch. We can replay the match from the point where your broom went wonky but only if it will make a difference as to who wins the cup. If we need it, you'll get a second chance, Potter."

Everyone grinned at Oliver Wood. Who else would dismiss an attack on a fellow student because it wouldn't interfere with Quidditch.

* * *

Draco was making his way to the Great Hall for breakfast. He opted for sleeping in on Sunday. Ahead of him, at the next staircase, were two second years from his house.

Of a sudden, a loud noise, not quite a scream, was heard above them. One of the second years, startled, suddenly disappeared from view. His friend was cursing Peeves the Poltergeist before asking his friend if he was hurt. (He wasn't but his foot was stuck in the trick stair.)

As Draco watched, a wildly dressed little man flew in his direction. He had heard stories but this was the first time, except for the sorting, that he had seen the spirit.

The man saw the boy staring. He paused in his flight and tipped his hat in greeting.

"Mister Malfoy. Good morning."

"Uh," Draco called out as the man made to leave. "It's Peeve's, isn't it?"

"That is correct, young Sir. I am Peeves. The resident Poltergeist."

He's being polite, Draco thought. It was confusing.

"You go around, causing mischief."

"You are correct again, young Sir. I do go around and, as you say, cause mischief."

"But," Draco was frowning. "You're being polite to me."

Peeved flew closer. "If I may explain, Mister Malfoy." He removed his hat and worried the brim with his hands. "I do not wish to be rude, but you do have a reputation. A fair number of people have described you as, pray do not be offended, they have described you as weird."

"I've heard," Draco acknowledged, grumbling at the reminder.

"Naturally, that caught my interest," Peeves continued, "and I have leant time to observation. At a distance, of course, so as not to disturb you. Mischief and Mayhem ARE my stock in trade." He paused to give a friendly smile, "To be honest, Mister Malfoy, I have come to the conclusion that to harass you in any way whatsoever would not be worth my while and that my time would be better spent elsewhere." He donned his hat. "If you will excuse me."

As the poltergeist flew away, Draco realized exactly what Peeves meant.

"HEY."


	9. November

**A/N: Thanks to a glitch somewhere in the computer world, I am no longer getting my reviews e-mailed to me. Again. This problem will magically correct itself sometime over the summer. This information has no significance at all.**

**My apologies to the readers. I thought Peeves was being wordy but obvious. Yes, he refused to harass Draco because it would not be as fun as harassing anyone else. I hope the first part of this chapter, the one after the italics, clears things up. I have the feeling that it won't. I apologize in advance for failing to make my story clear(er). Again.**

* * *

**November**

* * *

_John and I were identical. Yet we were never mistaken for each other. If someone wasn't sure, they would ask which we were. True, if we lied they would believe us. That wasn't the same thing._

_What I said wasn't completely correct. There was one time, one incident, when I was mistaken for John._

_That mistake saved my life._

* * *

Albus Dumbledore sat down to lunch, smiling. The incident at the Quidditch match had been unsettling but Severus had already made sure there would be no repeat. He turned to the Assistant Headmistress.

"Minerva, anything to report?" He frowned when she did not return his smile.

"Three complaints about Peeves." She handed him three parchment sheets.

Curious, he looked them over. Terry Boot, a first year in Ravenclaw, had a trash can thrown over his head. A rather common occurrence. August Gill, a second year in Gryffindor, was startled and stepped onto a trick stair. Nothing unusual. The third was a complaint by Draco Malfoy.

"Mister Malfoy is complaining that Peeves didn't do anything?"

"It's worse than that, Albus. He complained that Peeves refused to do anything. August Gill was in the area. When questioned, he claimed that Draco was chasing Peeves."

Albus' eyes paused in mid-twinkle. A student was chasing the poltergeist? This was not the usual turn of events. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold coin.

"Minerva, please hand this to Filius."

She took the coin and handed it to the Charms Professor. Flitwick let out a loud laugh in response.

"Albus?" Minerva wanted an explanation.

"At the beginning or the school year, Filius said that Draco was weird. He bet me one Galleon that I would agree with him before the Christmas holiday."

"That was a foolish wager." Minerva was smirking. "I only wish I had thought to make it."

* * *

Professor Snape looked up from his desk at the boy who was standing in the doorway.

"You should be in class, Mister Smith."

"History, Sir."

"Oh, nothing important, then. And why this visit?" He pointed to a chair. John Smith sat.

"You know . . . you know who I was."

"I know who you are," Severus said sternly.

"I'm not him. Not anymore."

"Oh? You're not someone who would do anything to help another, even a stranger, regardless of the personal cost to you? Even if it meant your life? The only difference I see in you, Mister Smith, is that you've learned to ask for help when you need it." He added casually, "you were always too much of a loner."

John smiled. "You've made your point, Sir."

"That is another difference. The last time we sat down together, you called me 'little Sev' and tousled my hair."

"Didn't know you were a wizard, then," John said with a laugh. He sighed. "That was so long ago."

"Longer for you than me, it seems. Now, why are you here?"

"Ron Weasley's rat."

Severus scowled. "And why would a pet rat be of interest to me?"

"He talks in his sleep." John paused. "Scabbers is worried about being serious about something."

"Serious?"

"He kept repeating that word while he was tossing and turning. I've never known a rat to do that. Most rats say nothing unless they're scared. Or mating. And even then it's mostly a rat version of screaming or grunting."

Severus nodded. He knew why John could understand anyone, even if that person was an animal. If he said rats didn't talk and this one was talking, he had to be believed. His argument only made sense if the rat wasn't a rat. In the world of magic, that was not an unreasonable assumption. Pouring some tea for the both of them, the professor tried to think of questions to ask. To clarify the situation. Halfway through his cup, his eyes widened. He made sense of the word.

"Sirius!?"

"Sir."

"It . . . Describe the rat, Mister Smith. Does Scabbers have any, um, deformities?"

John paused in thought. Severus knew he was picturing the rat in his mind. A perfect picture.

"He's missing one of his toes. Other than that, he's a normal old rat."

"Merlin's Offal," Severus cursed. He then excused himself for his language. He took a deep breath. "Not serious as in meaning what he said. Sirius as in Sirius Black. This is bad. Very bad."

"Sirius Black?" John was frowning. Then the boy made the connection. "Peter Pettigrew. Sirius Black killed him. All they found of Pettigrew was part of a finger."

"An illegal animagus."

Severus was on his feet. Pacing always helped him think. So did talking out loud. And this time he had an audience.

"We have to be careful about this. Did you tell anyone?"

"I was going to wake Ron but . . . no. The truth is I thought I would sound stupid."

"Good. You would have sounded stupid but you would also have given the game away, assuming we are correct."

John was smiling again. He knew that a plan had already been formed.

"Mister Smith, go to the Transfiguration classroom. Tell Professor McGonagall she's needed in the hallway. AND MAKE SURE SHE CASTS A SILENCING SPELL BEFORE YOU TELL HER ANYTHING."

Severus laid out his simple but effective plan. He waited the appropriate amount of time before heading to his classroom for double potions with the Gryffindor and Slytherin first years.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy was having an interesting day. He learned, long ago, to hate interesting days. Boring and predictable were more profitable and easier on the nerves. It started off with a visit to Diagon Alley. He stepped into Boot's Curiosity Shop. It was never too early to look for Christmas presents. The shop was good for amusing trifles. And he deliberately left himself time for such things.

Marcus Boot greeted him by name. It was always a nice gesture. Lucius greeted him in turn and said he was only browsing.

"Could I interest you in a business venture?"

He had time, so Lucius promised he would listen. He smiled and nodded as Boot explained his latest invention. A portable fireplace or some such nonsense. He smiled and frowned and nodded at the appropriate times as the man gave an outline of his plan.

"Marcus," Lucius interrupted as he held the small artifact in his hand. "Did you say that the device would cost five Sickles to make and you plan to sell it for 10 Knuts? That doesn't make good business sense."

"That's not where the money is," Boot insisted, "No wizard or witch would need more than one. Once they have a portable floo they'll need to refill it. The refills cost one Knut and sell for 10. And each refill is good for 20 calls."

"I don't know anyone who would be interested."

"You don't have a daughter, then." Boot was grinning. "Target groups. My sister married a muggle. He works in product development. Something like this is exactly what he says teenage girls will love."

Lucius was polite. "I will consider it. I'll let you know."

Boot's smile held. The man was smart enough to know a dismissal. "Thank you, Mister Malfoy. And thank you for your time."

It was an interesting idea, but Lucius saw no practical use for it. At least it wasted enough of his time before his first appointment.

A brisk walk and a casual turn into Knockturn Alley. He stepped into Borgin and Burkes. MacNair and Rockwood were already waiting for him.

"Walden, Augustus," he said in greeting. His smile remained in place.

"Do you have them?" MacNair asked after casting a silencing charm.

"Of course." He removed a pouch and handed it to the man. "Everything is in there. Simply cancel the shrinking spell. DO NOT use an engorgement charm."

Rockwood scowled. He had only made that mistake once.

MacNair chuckled as he took the pouch. "Thank you, Lucius. And do understand. We don't doubt your loyalties. I, personally, like your plan. We can't have too many 'honest' men in the Ministry. It's only . . ."

"I know," Lucius scolded. "There are those who don't trust my word. To be honest, Walden, they never trusted my word. As for these trinkets, I can keep them safe. But. The more successful I am, the more difficult it might be to return them at the proper time. It IS better this way."

Even Rockwood smiled as he said goodbye.

Lucius found it interesting. The others did not trust him, which was no surprise. They were all Slytherins. Most of them didn't even trust themselves. But MacNair and Rockwood (to a lesser degree) approved of his actions. And they were both in the Ministry. It seemed the Old Guard was more strongly divided than he thought. Which meant . . . what? There was something here he could use, once he figured it out. He would think about this when he had time.

* * *

"I don't care," Ron was saying as they waited for class to start. "I say John skipped Binns class because he's smarter than the rest of us. I say we should join him for the next history class."

Hermione was angry. "He didn't say anything to anyone. Something must have happened. We should go to the infirmary."

Ron pointed. "Draco's here. If something happened, they would have told him." He saw Draco scowl. "Is he still mad at me for not believing him about Snape?"

Hermione smirked. "I think he's mad because we stopped him from hitting you."

"Perhaps he is scowling," Professor Snape said, "because I'm standing behind the two of you and I am scowling?"

"Professor Snape, Sir," Ron said, his courage failing as he received the full force of Snape's glare.

"Good. You do know how to refer to me properly, Mister Weasley. You are excused from this class."

"But Sir . . ." Ron was scared. He was being thrown out of class?

"You have a task, Mister Weasley." Snape was smiling in anger. He was actually smiling in anger. "It seems that Mister Smith found something in his bed this morning that gave him quite a surprise. A little brown gift he claims came from your pet rat. Considering his strict level of hygiene, I am not surprised that he personally complained to your head of house."

Ron was more than confused. Was this the same John who laughed as two giant dog tongues licked him? Whatever was going on was nonsense. He shouted in frustration.

"SCABBERS WOULDN'T DO THAT?"

"Then perhaps someone did it for him." Snape was in full scowl. "Someone whose family has a reputation for tasteless pranks." His finger was pointing at Ron's nose. "This is what you are going to do. You will return to your house and retrieve your rat. You will then go directly to your Head of House who will be waiting for you in her office. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Professor," Ron said in defeat.

"And Mister Weasley. Be thankful that you have to confront Professor McGonagall."

Ron trudged all the way to his dorm room and picked up the sleeping Scabbers. The rat didn't even stir when Ron accused him of not behaving. He then made his way to Professor McGonagall's office. He took a deep breath, then knocked. He silently swore that he would make John apologize for his hateful lie.

The door opened. Ron stepped back in surprise at seeing Professor Dumbledore.

"Ah, Ron, your timing is perfect. I've finished with my business." He patted Ron's shoulder. "Don't worry, Ronald."

Ron stared as he entered the room. McGonagall was standing behind her desk, telling him to set his rat down in the place provided. John was standing against one wall with Draco and Professor Snape. He gave a curious look as he noticed Harry there as well.

Carefully, he sat the rat down. Scabbers was beginning to wake up.

* * *

"Do you believe he said that?" Draco shook his head. "With Professor Snape behind him."

"He won't take more than a hundred points," Harry said, half seriously.

Both boys stopped in their tracks as the professor explained, loudly, what Ron had to do and why.

Harry, to his credit, kept a straight face when John's strict level of hygiene was mentioned. He snorted when Draco suggested they'd better not tell Fluffy.

"Professor," Hermione was saying. "Ron wouldn't do anything like that."

Harry's grin faded as Snape looked in his direction. "You may be right, Miss Granger. It seems that two boys are too amused by what happened." He motioned for the two boys to follow him. At the door, he paused.

"I think it best to cancel today's class. Everyone is free to go." He turned to Draco and Harry. "The two of you will follow me."

"We didn't do anything," Harry insisted as they walked down the corridor.

"That is for Professor McGonagall to decide."

Draco looked back. "No one's following, Sir."

"Wall's have ears," Snape hissed.

Harry looked at the Professor. The man nodded. Something was going on. Draco was being brought along because of John. That was obvious. Somehow, he was involved. And he was upset because Draco had figured it out almost at once.

They were ushered into McGonagall's office. John was expected to be there.

Dumbledore's presence was a surprise. That meant whatever was going on was big.

"Are you sure, Severus?"

"No, Headmaster. The evidence, however, is too strong to ignore. Should I be wrong, then you shall witness my apology to a Weasley."

"I would much prefer that outcome," McGonagall said, "and not because it would be amusing. If you're right, then an innocent man has spent ten years in Azkaban."

Dumbledore turned to the two boys. "You are to say nothing to Ron Weasley when he arrives. You are to stay out of the way. If any of us tell you to do something, do it at once. Is that understood?"

Harry nodded his head. He then listened as the headmaster explained. First came the reminder of his parent's murder. They had placed their faith in a close friend. A man named Sirius Black.

Harry turned to John. John nodded. The word he had heard was the man's name. He turned back when he heard the term, 'illegal animagus'. He was about to ask if the rat was really this man, Black, the man who had betrayed his parents except he remembered McGonagall's remark about an innocent man.

Harry's patience was rewarded. Not Black, but the man who betrayed Black as well as his parents. They were here to witness the man's arrest.

"Thank you, Professor, for letting me be here."

"Remember my warnings," Dumbledore told him. He motioned that Harry should stand against the far wall with Draco and John. No sooner was he in place then there was a knock at the door. Ron was here.

* * *

After an early meal, Lucius went to his meeting ay the Ministry. It was time to make another contribution to the Minister's favorite causes, and to discuss current events. There was to be an altering to the tax laws. Cornelius was going to personally explain the new law.

That was interesting because it meant that the law, as Lucius proposed it, had been amended. Changed enough that Lucius needed to know. And the Minister was excellent and clear in his explanation.

"Minister," Lucius asked to clarify, "I can deduct investment . . . losses?"

"Up to one million Galleons, Lucius. That's twice what you wanted."

"But . . . only the losses." He frowned. His wonderful tax write-off plan had been ruined. And he knew why. The rewording to simplify the language made it obvious what he was trying to do. Cornelius reinforced his mood by his next remark.

"The original wording would have made a terrible tax loophole. An unscrupulous businessman could reinvest in his own company and make a profit in the taxes he wouldn't pay. Even I couldn't support a law like that." The un-added part was "once they realized what it was."

Lucius nodded. "We should be thankful that someone caught the error. It could have become an embarrassment." He smiled. It could have been a very profitable embarrassment.

* * *

Minerva was anxious. She remembered how she had cursed the name of Sirius Black. To betray the Potters to Voldemort. To follow that with the murder of Peter Pettigrew and a dozen muggles who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It made sense. Everyone assumed Sirius was the Potter's secret keeper. Just as everyone assumed that Peter was a loyal friend. If Peter was the true secret keeper, then everything made a different kind of sense. Peter was the spy they never found. And Sirius Black laughed when he was arrested because he knew no one would believe him.

There was the awaited knock on the door. The moment of truth had arrived. A great wrong would be set right or she would curse herself for thinking Black could have been innocent. She waved her wand and the papers on her desk cleared themselves away.

"Your rat. On the desk, Mister Weasely."

The rat had clearly been sleeping. It was now waking up. It looked around and gave a distinctly non-rat look at her. That was all the proof she needed. A wordless stunning spell and the rat collapsed.

"SCABBERS." Weasley lunged forward to grab the rat.

"RONALD." Her voice was stern. "Over there with your friends. Your rat is not hurt but there is something we must do."

The boy obeyed, barely. This was all a shock to him but it couldn't be helped and, barring the unlikely, a greater shock was about to come.

"Albus, would you like the honour?"

"Do you mind, Severus?" Albus asked.

"I do not want to be the man who proved Sirius Black to be innocent."

"It would be a nice irony." Albus paused to see if Severus would change his mind, then pointed his wand at the rat.

A silent command.

The rat began to quickly grow. In less time than it takes to let out breath, a short, dumpy man was lying awkwardly on the desk. A second later, he fell hard onto the floor.

"That must have hurt," She heard John Smith say.

She smiled. "I hope so."

* * *

As the meeting with the Minister ended, the day became more interesting. Amelia Bones walked in with Rufus Scrimgeour.

"You might as well stay, Lucius," Scrimgeour said. "Your sons are involved."

That was interesting because the Auror used his first name. Again. That meant that the man still held a (somewhat) positive view of him. It also meant that what happened was not a bad thing. Legally. As that thought crossed his mind, so did another one.

"Are they . . ."

Scrimgeour actually smiled at him. "No one was injured."

Amelia Bones, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, broke the news. "Peter Pettigrew bruised his shoulder when he fell off the desk." She saw the stunned looks. "Yes, the same Pettigrew who was murdered by Sirius Black ten years ago. He's being interviewed in one of the holding cells. We're curious how he managed to live through the explosion."

She handed a parchment to Fudge. "Minister, this needs your signature."

"Sirius Black?" Cornelius asked. "Released?"

"He was sent to Azkaban for murdering a man who is still alive."

As Amelia Bones went over the details of the incident at Hogwarts and how Pettigrew was discovered, Lucius was thinking again. He knew the Minister too well. This was a grandstand moment. Cornelius would want to sign the release form in front of an audience. He also knew enough about Bones and Scrimgeour.

Amelia Bones didn't want to wait. She was one of Black's comrades in the war. Now that she knew the truth, she wanted him freed at once. His guess was that she would apparate with the release form directly to the prison.

Rufus Scrimgeour was of a different cut. If there was no doubt in his mind, you deserved whatever he could give you. But if there was doubt, he'd watch and wait, for decades if need be, for proof.

"Yes, he should be released," Cornelius was saying.

"Innocent until proven guilty," Lucius said in a calm tone. "Minister, I know you need to consider the political aspects of this case. Black's release would be cause for a 'spectacle' but that would mean keeping him in prison for a few days more." He accioed the quill from the Minister's desk. "On the other hand, we are talking about the Godfather of the Boy-Who-Lived." He handed the quill to the Minister. "I'm sure people will remember that he was imprisoned 'without' a trial. It will help your reputation when people know that you did not hesitate to release the man."

Minister Fudge attached his signature the document with a flourish. Amelia Bones took the parchment, giving Lucius a grateful smile for his helpful words. Lucius gave her a nod to say she was welcome. Inwardly, he was smiling. One more person in the Ministry had a good, well, better, opinion of him. And, at a later date, he could suggest the possibility of other 'innocent' people who were imprisoned under similar circumstances. A popping noise was heard as soon as Amelia left the office.

"Minister," Lucius said, giving a light bow to show he would be leaving.

"Oh, of course. Good day, Lucius. I have work to do. People will be asking questions."

"I'll walk you out," Scrimgeour offered.

As they walked, Scrimgeour gave Lucius more of the particulars. And he asked a question. "I understand your sons, they found him, but why Potter?"

"I would blame Severus Snape. Harry has to learn the truth. Why not from the moment that everyone knows? If I know the professor, he's probably the one explaining things to the boy. He was an old friend of the boy's mother."

"Snape had a friend? I'd have never thought it. But then . . ."

"But then?" Lucius asked. He looked at the man. Scrimgeour was not one to say too much.

"Oh, nothing. I'm being surprised by people a lot these days. Pettigrew and Black. You. The way your first concern was for your sons."

"Sons." Lucius stopped in his steps. "Rufus, That's twice you've mentioned my sons, as in more than one."

"Oh," Scrimgeour was smiling. "The Minister didn't tell you? Once Dumbledore gave his endorsement, the adoption was a given."

"But." That was as far as Lucius managed. The man had mentioned Dumbledore. Lucius would be the first to admit that the Headmaster of Hogwarts was one of the few men alive today who could spot an advantage faster than he could. Because of his wife's request, he was now part of the old man's plans.

The day became that much more interesting. If Dumbledore were to consider the Malfoys as completely trustworthy? The possible benefits had to be considered.

* * *

Severus Snape felt uncomfortable, although he hid it well. He was sitting on a bench in an empty hallway. Potter was sitting next to him. Looking up at him with those bright green eyes. A questioning look. A trusting look.

"You know I loved Lily as though she were my own sister, Harry."

The boy grinned, only a hint of sadness at the mention of his late mother. Severus smiled at a memory and tousled the boy's hair. He now had to tell something he didn't want to. He had to explain why he hated the boy's godfather.

"I never felt that way about your father." He was honest, to a point. He told of his first meeting, on the train. Potter and Black were the rich purebloods. He described himself as the poor muggle-raised boy. The early teasing, but he did learn to fight back. In the end, he gave out as much as he received.

"There was one time. Black played a cruel prank on me. One that almost turned deadly." Severus swallowed hard. "Your father managed to save me." He had an insight. One he may never have had if . . . he never talked to Harry. "Your father seemed to calm down after that. I think that's when your mother first became attracted to him." A pause. "I helped by letting my anger at Black, and his friends, extend to their entire house." His voice took a sad tone. "Including Lily." A short pause. "I never had the chance to come to terms with your father. Or to ask your mother to forgive me."

Severus looked at Harry. The boy was looking at the floor. There was a tear on his cheek. He took a cloth from his pocket and wiped the cheek. Harry looked up with moist eyes.

"Why the tears?"

Harry opened his mouth. He closed it. After another false start and the need for the cloth to wipe his nose, Harry let out a halting explanation. Black. Death. If. Different. Him. Not Aunt Petunia.

Harry was crying. This was not what Severus expected. It took a long while before the reason came clear. Harry thought Black's 'prank' was the reason Lily ended her friendship with him. Which meant that he would have been raised by the Potions Professor had things been different. Severus almost laughed and would have corrected the boy but Harry didn't stop there. He added that he wouldn't have had to suffer.

Harry, through his tears, was listing the things he had suffered.

Severus held the boy, letting him cry himself out. Not that he knew what else to do. Except for one thing. He made a silent vow. From now on, he would always be there for Harry, as he was for Draco. And it would no longer be a pretense. Lily's son would know that there was one adult he could trust fully and completely. Hugging the still crying child, he smiled at a thought. It was a petty thought but it cemented his determination.

Sirius Black would be furious.

* * *

Ron felt sick.

His rat was really a man. His rat who had sleep with him in bed. Not only a man but also a mass murderer.

Fred suggested he could blame Percy. It didn't make Ron feel any better.

Percy's reaction did.

He repaid Fred the best way he knew how. He stood up, hugged his brother, and said, "Thanks, George."

* * *

Lucius marked his arrival at the school to coincide with the end of the evening meal. The first one to spot him was Draco. The boy ran up to him and hugged him. Then the question of why he was at the school.

"Find your brother. I'll tell both of you at once."

Draco gave a surprised look followed by a wide grin. He ran back into the Great Hall.

Three children were watching him. Parvati, the girl was smiling. She asked if John was now rich and wealthy. The smiling reply was that he was richer and wealthier. The Smith estates were no small thing. Then there was Ron, the boy with the rat. It must have been because he was a Weasley. The boy laughed when Lucius expressed his condolences. He said he just blamed it on his brother. The last was Harry. The boy seemed troubled.

Parvati gave the answer. Harry told them about how his godfather had done mean things to Professor Snape. Ron commented that he didn't know why Harry liked Snape, anyway. Parvati hit his arm and said, "Shut up. No one does."

"I heard how Sirius Black and his friends used to torment poor little Severus," Lucius said in a cheerful voice. It worked. The three were staring at him in surprise. "I also remember those little things that Severus did." He paused to put his finger to his chin. "I seem to remember a second year boy in my house cast a cleansing spell that worked too well. (I do not know who taught him that particular spell . . . which I've never taught Draco so don't ask him.) Two Gryffindor boys were the centre of attention. Their clothing began to shrink and tear before disappearing completely. And just before a Quidditch match. I believe my house was playing Ravenclaw."

"My godfather?" Harry asked. A grin had snuck its way onto his face.

"And your father." Lucius saw the grin widen. "Both ran starkers from the viewing stands all the way to their dorms."

Lucius knelt in front of Harry. He was honest with the boy. He did not like Potter or Black while he did have a friendship with Severus. "I personally think the reason they hated each other so much because neither could best the other. There was an incident where one of them went too far. No harm was done in the end. But. Old hatreds die hard."

Lucius was satisfied with the results. Harry kept his grin as he agreed to keep an open mind when he finally met Sirius Black. After intervening with the Minister, the last thing Lucius needed was to have the boy reject the man outright. Another thing he didn't need was a crowd of students around him asking what other things the dour Potions professor had done. He pointed to Ron, saying there were Weasleys present. He didn't want to give anyone ideas. It worked. Except for two very interesting things.

Professor McGonagall asked him before he left about his skill with children. He looked at her as though she were mad. He had no such skills. He treated them as though they were adults. He then told them what he wanted done and hoped they did it. It worked most of the time so he kept treating them that way.

The second thing was a muggleborn girl from Hufflepuff. She asked for his autograph. She had a muggle newspaper, the front page of the London Times. It was from September. It was a picture of him at that school. Muggles had very good camera lenses. He was large enough in the picture to be easily recognizable. It was when he was talking on the cell phone and looking up at the helicopter, looking directly at the camera. He smiled at the girl, frowned at Professor McGonagall and signed his name.

* * *

Marcus Boot was closing up his shop. It had been a long day. It was the beginning of a long month. Christmas promised to be good for sales. His wife was too close to term to help. The other children were too young to help, except Terry who was at school. He turned around when he heard the popping noise.

"Mister Malfoy?"

"I have a question? You have experience with muggles, more than I have."

"My brother-in-law. My grandparents were all muggles."

Lucius Malfoy was smiling at him. His next question told Marcus that he had a partner to finance his portable floo.

"Do you know about cell phones?"


	10. December

**A/N: I forgot to comment on one of the reviews, about whether or not Hermione should have known about something that Draco mentioned. It's too late now because I address that question in this chapter.**

**Also, a comment to Asj Johnson who wondered that Snape thought of Lily as a sister. This has nothing to do with the story, per se. Severus used the word, sister, because he was talking to someone who was eleven. I was struck with the thought of Hugh Grant as Severus Snape talking to Harry. (Think the opening scenes of the movie, 'About A Boy'.)**

**Yes, I have too much time on my hands.**

* * *

**December**

* * *

_There is a story in the chronicles of the Malfoys. It probably went unread for generations. It tells of a wizard who wished for eternal life. When he died, he was born again as a young man with no knowledge of his past. It is said that this man stopped the arrow meant for the heart of Rhys Mal Fey, last of the line of Morgan Le Fey. He did this by taking the arrow into his own chest._

_The story ends with Rhys Mal fostering the boy. The boy was named in the chronicles as Eon ap Smythe._

* * *

Severus Snape looked down at the two boys in his Potions class. They always sat together in the front row. His two star pupils. But they were only human. As good as they were, it was only a matter of time before they made a mistake. A mis-added ingredient. It didn't ruin the potion but made it less effective.

It also smelled.

"Harry, Draco, why don't the two of you stay after class. You can help to clean."

He would teach them. If they were as good as he thought, they would learn.

They washed bottles. By hand. The bottles that stored the results of each potion brewed. When they were done, the professor sat them down.

"What did you learn?"

Both boys gave him a confused look. He smiled inwardly. The confusion was over what they should have learned, not over why he asked the question. As much as he admired his godson, his heart leaped when it was Lily's son who responded.

"Some of the bottles were harder to clean than others?"

Severus controlled his urge to laugh. The boy had the right of it even if he wasn't sure.

"And why was that, Harry?"

He watched as Harry scrunched his face. Draco was doing the same. At nearly the same time their eyes went wide.

"They were worse?" Harry asked.

Draco was grinning. "The better the potion, the less residue."

"And now you know my secret on how I can properly test and grade forty potions a day."

The boys left smiling. They learned an important lesson. Anyone could brew a potion that would work. It took skill to brew a potion that would work wonders.

A week later he explained the same lesson to Ron Weasley. The potion to be prepared was a simple cold remedy. A cupful of Ron's potion (Neville helped him) would cure a cold. A spoonful of the potion mixed by Miss Patel and Miss Granger would do the same. That was why his potion received an A and theirs received an E.

* * *

"I was only thinking out loud," Harry was saying. The group was camped out in a deserted classroom. "I like Fluffy, but . . . "

"John told you," Parvati said with a grin, "there are traps underneath the trap door."

"But why?"

Hermione was smiling. "I think I know what's down there."

Harry was smiling. Once Hermione became interested in something, she had to learn everything. After a comment by Draco, she went to the library. A week later she was an expert on pensieves and Legilimency.

"And what is it?" asked Parvati.

Harry's smile held. He never decided which of the girls was smarter. He decided that Hermione was book smart and Parvati was street smart. He explained what he meant to Draco and Ron by saying that Hermione knew how to create a magical means to go anywhere. Parvati knew what to do once they arrived. Harry knew that Parvati would open that trap door in an instant if she had a reason.

"I don't know exactly what it was, only that it was removed from Gringotts the day of the break-in. Hagrid removed it."

"I was there that day," Draco said. "I remember Hagrid was escorting some muggleborn first year."

"That was me," Harry said, angry at the memory.

"At Madam Malkin's? That was you?"

"You were rude." Harry was struck by a memory. "You said that Hogwarts let in too many of the wrong sort."

Draco smiled at him. "If I was rude then that was definitely me."

"And the wrong sort?" Hermione asked. Harry heard the hint of accusation.

"Muggleborns," Draco said with a straight face. "Did you know that most muggleborn students feels superior because they know more about living without magic?"

"And what about the students who brag about being purebloods?" Hermione still wasn't smiling.

Draco was smiling. "There is nothing wrong with being proud of your heritage. The problem is when you use that pride to force your opinion on others."

* * *

Draco was surprised when Harry mentioned meeting him at Madame Malkin's. He vaguely remembered it. However, Harry also mentioned his comment about the wrong type. Hermione was now asking what he meant.

Draco had the advantage. His father expected such a discussion to happen sooner or later. Draco was coached on the 'proper' viewpoint.

Hermione had asked about purebloods.

He smiled at her. "There is nothing wrong," he drawled, "with being proud of your heritage." He then mentioned the problem with pride.

"Do you see, Hermione? The muggleborns and the purebloods are opposite sides of the same coin. They're better, therefore they're the ones who should be listened to. Most of us are a different coin entirely."

"You're not making any sense," Hermione told him.

"It sounds good, though," Parvati chided.

Draco fumed. It sounded sensible when father said it.

"Right. Try it this way. You go to a Weird Sisters concert. There's a small group that says the Weird Sisters are the best group ever. A larger group comes in and claims that The Hags are better and the Weird Sisters should play Hags songs. Which group would you rather be part of, if you had to choose?"

"The Weird Sisters group," Hermione admitted.

Draco smiled. "Change that to the magical community, the Hags to wherever the muggleborn comes from." He kept smiling. He was trying to explain something that he didn't understand himself. He was only parroting what his father had said. Hopefully Hermione would figure out what his father was talking about and explain it to him.

Parvati helped by explaining that she was lost. Ron said he was right there with her. Harry was grinning and John was watching with his curious look. Neville was the smartest of them. He fell asleep about the time that Harry said he was only thinking out loud. Then there was Trevor. Draco swore that the toad knew he was bluffing his way through the whole thing.

Hermione frowned. Slowly a smile came to her face. "You're talking about culture."

"Um, yeah," Draco said, hoping she was right.

"Still lost," Parvati said.

"There's a muggle saying: When in Rome, do as a Roman. What Draco's saying is that most muggleborns come to Hogwarts and try to act like they're still muggles. They don't bother learning about how magical people do things."

"Like Seamus?" Ron asked, "When he kept going on about feetball?"

"He took to Quidditch fast enough," Harry pointed out.

"Draco's right," Parvati said thoughtfully. "I remember meeting muggleborns on the train. They didn't impress. Most either gawked at magic or bragged about what they would do. Mum's muggleborn, so I know more about them than most my age. It was still annoying."

"What about me?" Hermione asked Draco. "How do I fit in?"

Draco reminded himself that this was the girl who hugged him when he was sorted into Gryffindor. He had to say something wonderful. "Any way you want to?"

Harry helped by asking, "What's that mean?"

Ron helped even more by stating, "You know he fancies her."

Hermione leveled the playing field. "Seriously, Draco. I know I study hard and try to fit in, but where do I fit in? How do people see me?"

"The extremists hate you," John said. "Only because you don't agree with them. And that goes for both sides."

Draco had an idea that was completely brill. When he was done, she would be happy and everyone would be convinced he 'still' cared for her.

"Hermione, You do know that my family goes back to Merlin's days. You have two things in common with my most famous female ancestor, Morgan Le Fey. Three, actually. She also had curly hair."

He smirked as Hermione smiled at him. She asked what the other two were.

"Well, the first thing is that, like you, she was very smart."

"And the second?"

"She was muggleborn."

Draco was delighted. Hermione was stunned.

"You see," John was saying. He, too, had an impish grin. "Every family can trace their line back to where it began. (If they try.) Morgan made her own mark on the world of magic, Hermione, and so will you."

"There's an old saying in my family," Neville commented as Draco wondered how long he had been awake. "May your children look back on you with pride."

Draco sat back and thought about what they had talked about. It didn't make much sense but he thought he understood. It was wrong to hate Muggleborns because they were born to muggles. They should be hated because they acted like muggles.

Draco shook his head. He didn't understand at all. He looked over at Hermione. She was walking over to sit next to him. She was smiling. Smiling was good.

* * *

Hermione was standing outside, wrapped up warmly, watching the snow fall. Christmas holiday would be coming soon. Draco had invited her to his house for Boxing Day. Neville would be coming with his grandmother. Parvati's parents and sister would be there as well. And the Weasleys were invited. Hermione asked about her parents. John whispered that Father had already sent them an invite.

The doors opened behind her and Draco appeared in a heavy black hooded robe.

"You look like a monk."

"I will take that as a good thing."

Hermione snorted. "They're supposed to be good."

"That's not me, then."

"We're all invited? And our families?" She had to know.

"And half the teachers." Draco smiled from under his hood. "All of John's friends. From before as well."

"How is John taking all of this?"

Draco laughed. "Did your parents ever show you a present they were going to give you, all wrapped up and ready to open, then they said you had to wait?"

Hermione groaned. "Every Christmas. They start putting gifts under the tree a week before. Every morning, there's one or two more than the night before. Every night there's two or three more than in the morning."

They were both grinning. John, for all his age and despite the countless lives he had lived, was acting like he was eleven years old.

The doors opened and John walked out. For warmth, he was wearing a jumper.

"SNOW?" He shouted. "I love snow." He stood there, smiling. Snowflakes slowly began to cover his hair. Halfway through their task, John shook himself. "It's cold. I'm cold. Why didn't you tell me to dress warmly, Draco? You're my brother. I was counting on you."

John disappeared inside before any response could be made.

* * *

Draco was sipping his tea. He glanced at Hagrid. The man was looking at Harry. He fed his cookie to Fang. Harry was telling the half-giant how John was making everyone laugh.

"Can't blame him, though," Harry said wistfully. "I'd be the same if I knew they were throwing a big party just for me."

"I'll talk to Father," Draco offered. "Mind you, he's never thrown a party for me, either."

"I heard," Hagrid said, "when ye were born." He grinned to show he was teasing. "It ain't the same thing, you know."

"Yeah," Draco said half-heartedly. "It would still be nice, though." He sipped his tea. "I think I'm jealous."

Harry laughed. Nodding his head. He understood. Hagrid was asking why.

"I was an only child for eleven years. Now I have a twin brother. He gets all the attention. He gets a party." Draco took a sip of his tea. "He gives Fluffy more attention than he gives me."

"Ye know about Fluffy?" Hagrid asked. For some reason he seemed scared.

"John introduced us. He said he helped you train him."

"He did, but that was . . ."

"Another life?" Draco offered. "He remembers."

"Tha's hard gettin' used to. I first met 'im when he was twice as old as I am now." Hagrid stood up to answer a knock at the door. "And if I'm righ', I'm about to meet him while he's a sixth my age."

John was rushed in out of the cold. He was dressed warmly. Hermione had come with him, insisting that he needs watching. No one disagreed with her comment.

"I'm not that bad?" John asked. "Oh, tea! Wonderful."

"Six days." Draco has a smug look.

"Until the party?" John asked. "Do you honestly think I'm this excited over a party?"

Hagrid answered. "Uh, yeah."

John's face lit up. "It's not only the party. It's also Christmas. It's also Monday. We take the train home for the Christmas holiday. Hagrid, I'm going HOME. To a family." He was grinning madly while a tear ran rampant down his cheek. "To MY family."

* * *

Hermione ended up walking back to the castle with Draco. Harry and John were going to fly brooms for a while.

"You could have joined them," Hermione offered.

"They were joining the Weasley twins. Odd numbers don't work with brooms."

"I don't see why?"

"They're going to pair off for a pick up game of Quidditch."

"You don't know that."

"Turn around."

Hermione did. She looked toward the pitch where four figures were floating in the air. One was gesturing.

"He's setting the rules. Wait half a minute and they'll start playing."

Hermione grabbed Draco's hand and squeezed it by way of apology. "If I were decent on a broom, you could be playing."

Draco gave her a sincere smile. "Thank you for saying that. I only hope that they tire John out. He's so . . ."

"Annoying?"

"Unbearable." His face filled with frustration, his voice with scorn. "This is a dream holiday for him. And I know he'll get more presents than I will. I know they'll be better presents. He'll be the center of attention at the party, of course. And when we reach London, he'll be the first my parents will hug. And worst of all, everyone, EVERYONE, will be expecting me to take part in the celebration of 'wonderful' John."

Hermione couldn't help herself. She giggled. Draco scowled. Then his face softened and he shrugged his shoulders.

"I'll find a way to deal with it," Draco promised.

"There's always sibling rivalry," Hermione pointed out. It worked. Draco was smiling again.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy sat down at the table across from the young man.

"You are a difficult man to find, Mister Harkness."

The man continued to eat his sandwich. The waiter came over. Lucius ordered the same thing. When a glass of clear liquid was set before him, he cautiously took a sip.

"Water?"

"Alcohol doesn't affect me. No reason to drink anything else."

"Then the rumours are true."

"Which rumours?"

"The ones that say you can't die."

Jack snorted. "Oh, I can die. That's not a problem." He took a bite of his sandwich and chewed slowly. He swallowed. "The problem is this. I don't stay dead." He looked directly at Lucius.

"Who are you, Mister Malfoy? I rarely meet anyone as non-existent as you. Finding out your name was the only thing you let me discover."

"Only because I thought you were someone else."

"Do you know him?"

Lucius paused. There was a tone in the man's voice. Not curiosity. Hope. He started to say something. He paused. He started again.

"I know who you're referring to. I've heard the legends."

Harkness gave a low laugh. "He's real, Mister Malfoy."

"And his many forms?"

"I've known him for two of his regenerations. I think I've seen at least one other." The man was staring intently. "What?" He said more insistent, "What?"

Lucius could feel the blood leave his face. "You said he regenerates."

"Where is he?" Hope and desperation were in the man's voice.

They paused as the waiter delivered the sandwich. That gave Lucius time to think. To put the matter in perspective. As the waiter left, Lucius picked up the sandwich. "We're having a party for him in five days. You're invited." He took a bite of the sandwich and chewed thoughtfully as he watched the other man for his reaction. He swallowed and asked, "What is this I'm eating?"

The conversation carried over as the two men walked along the Cardiff waterfront. Harkness was laughing. "He regenerated as an eleven-year-old. And you adopted him. And he's going to school." The man paused. "Thank you. It felt good. I haven't had a reason to laugh for a while."

"Which is why I'm here," Lucius said lightly. "You were the cause of the alien's departure."

"Don't remind me."

"For personal reasons, there are things I must know."

"Information for information, then."

"Agreed. You may ask first."

"Are you Torchwood Four or Ministry of Magic?"

"They claimed I was Torchwood. And, while I am good friends with the Minister, I am an independent businessman."

The American gave a cheeky grin. That was the best Lucius could describe it. "I remembered your picture from that schoolyard in Sussex. You did that on your own?"

"I did." Lucius permitted himself to smirk. "And now for my question. I heard how you vanquished the aliens." His voice hardened. "I'm trying to find a reason to tolerate muggles. I was curious how you chose the child you sacrificed."

The cheeky grin was gone. "He was the only one available."

"And how does his family feel?" Lucius felt anger. The callous remark about the boy being the only one around that he could use. He felt the anger fade as the man looked at him. The anguish in the man's face. And Lucius understood. If their roles had been reversed. If he had to decide between the lives of millions of children against the life of Draco. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," came the harsh retort. "I'm the reason the aliens came in the first place." The man paused. "Long story."

"We'll leave it at that."

Harkness smiled his thanks. Lucius felt compelled to remind him of the invitation. If he was truly an old friend. Humour slipped back into the man's smile.

"I would say I'm more of an acquaintance then a friend. I always get on his nerves after a while." It seemed a random comment but he asked, "Are you sure you never heard of Torchwood before September."

"I would remember."

"Not necessarily."

"Your amnesia pills do not work on wizards. However, our amnesia spells work fine on you. Not that any of your people know that."

"Right," Harkness said, "Harry Potter and all that."

"You know about Harry Potter?" Lucius was confused.

"I read his autobiography." The American smirked at Lucius. "I guess he hasn't written it yet. That's what comes from traveling with the Doctor. I read the book when I was a kid. For school. For ancient history. Loved it. Reading about a wizard instead of some astronaut or dictator. Not to scare you, Lucius, but I was born in the 52nd century." His smile faded. "What?"

"Harry Potter is my sons' mate at school. Draco is the reason he's in Gryffindor."

"You're . . . that . . . Lucius . . . Malfoy?"

"What do you mean . . . Merlin's Beard, you mean you . . ."

That was all he needed to say. He understood that this man was a time traveler. He knew what happened.

Harkness did not look calm. That kept Lucius on his toes. He asked the man the obvious question.

"What is wrong?"

"I'm trying to remember. You said Potter was in Gryffindor because of your son, Draco. Draco is in, um, your old house, let me think, let me think, Slipandslide."

"Slytherin," Lucius corrected in a cold voice."

"Well, pardon me," Harkness said testily, "I read that book two hundred years ago. I didn't think it would be important to remember everything."

"Slip and Slide?" Lucius retorted. "You make us sound like a house of harlequins."

Harkness was trying not to laugh. "We could call the other house, Get a Grip."

"It must be an American thing."

"Sorry." The man swallowed a smirk.

Lucius tried to control his annoyance. This was something serious. "To answer your question, no. My son did not go to Slytherin . . . much to my regret. He did, however, save John's life, befriend a muggle, and give me a chance to make some money." He paused. "Please explain why the blood drained from your face." His voice fluttered. "I hope it's shock because I made money out of this."

What came next was a warning. And a phrase he took a long while to understand. Harry Potter was a fixed point in time. There were certain things that Harry had to do. "If John interfered in the wrong thing," Harkness told him, "we get to see what 'Time and Space Unraveling' looks like."

"I'll pass the word," Lucius promised.

The man nodded.

Lucius watched until Jack Harkness walked out of sight, mulling over the things the man had said. One key thought dominated his reflections. The man had read Harry Potter's autobiography. Which meant that, whatever the future, the Potter boy would live through it. The fact that his story would be popular after thirty centuries must mean that he was successful.

Lucius smiled as he apparated back to London. He knew one fact about the future. A fact that implied many things. Laid against what he knew about the past, he was willing to predict three things.

Voldemort would rise again.

There would be another war.

The Malfoys would stand firmly behind Potter.

* * *

Draco was in a good mood. The train ride was everything he could hope for. John had finally calmed down. He said it was because he was finally doing something.

"You're sitting in a seat," Ron pointed out.

"But the seat is moving," John countered. "I am no longer waiting. I'm in transit. I've started the journey. And I will happily sit here until we reach London." He then stood up and checked the corridor to see if the trolley lady was near.

"I told you," Draco said to Ron. "If we grabbed a compartment second from the last car, we get the trolley first off and again when she returns."

"Tell Hermione."

"She won't listen."

"I'm sitting right here, next to you, Draco."

Draco turned to see an angry Hermione. "I know. The closer we are to the front of the train, the quicker we can get to the station."

"Do you want to spend the holiday in the train station?"

"I do," Ron said, "At least until Mum's done with Fred and George."

"Here," John said as he rushed into the compartment, hitting Ron with four packages of chocolate frogs.

"Wicked," was Ron's response as he tore open the first frog.

"One jelly slug," John said gracefully, handing it to Hermione. He divided the remainder between himself and Draco. They each had two pumpkin pasties and a licorice wand.

"Couldn't wait?" Hermione asked.

"Do you know," John said in his conspirators voice, "Even since I learned about the trolley lady, I've never waited."

"Thanks," a brown-haired boy said as he stuck his head in the compartment. A second later, he was gone.

"Who was that?" Ron asked.

"Terry Boot," John said between mouthfuls. "Ravenclaw. He saw me and thanked me for the invite. I bribed him to carry the things to the next compartment."

"He thanked you?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, nice guy, oldest of five, maybe six by now. Not much change to spare. He now has a cauldron cake and a box of Bertie Botts." The conversation ended as he bit off the end of his wand.

"He's coming to John's party?" Hermione asked Draco.

"Probably business. Father's having the party, anyway."

"He's turning John's party into a business venture?"

Draco gave his impish grin. "No. It's worse than that. He's inviting the man over to share in a social occasion. And, unscrupulous as my father is, he invited the man's son as well."

Hermione gave an amused look. "I'm sure he has a good reason that has nothing to do with business."

Draco laughed. "Father was Slytherin. Of course it has something to do with business."

* * *

Harry was anxious although he wouldn't admit it. He was on holiday. He would be spending two weeks with friends. There would be Christmas presents. A huge party the next day. New Years Eve was to be a surprise of some sort. A boy, Terry Boot, dropped off a handful of candy, saying it would hold them over until the trolley lady arrived.

Life was full of surprises. One after the other.

"Neville, do you know what's strange?"

The round-faced boy looked up from the book on plants that Parvati was showing him.

"For you or for me, Harry?"

Harry smirked and let Neville and Parvati go back to what they were doing. He looked out the window and let his thoughts wander. His life had changed so much in four months. He had friends. Him. Worthless Harry. The one nobody cared about. But people did care about him. The meanest man in the school, by reputation, never used a word in anger, unless it was earned. And the man made sure the reason was understood.

Someone touched his shoulder. It was Parvati. She asked if he had a nice nap.

"I must have. We're here, already?"

"Harry," John called through the compartment door, "Hurry. We need to queue up." He walked away saying, "I like that. Harry, Hurry. Hurry, Harry."

"See you Thursday, then," he said to Neville and Parvati. "You, too, Trevor."

"Croak."

Harry rushed after John and Draco. It was going to be a wonderful holiday.

* * *

Ron was convinced that his life was cursed. He stepped off the train to find his parents waiting no more than ten feet from him. His mother scowled and said, "THERE THEY ARE."

His father looked over and saw him approaching. He gave a clear and obvious nod of his head. (Keep moving. Your Mum hasn't seen you. I'll run cover.) . Ron looked away and kept walking with Hermione. Ron would brag later on that no one could say more with one simple nod than his dad.

They were waiting with half the school at the gate to the train station when the noise began.

"WHAT DID THE TWO OF YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING? DID YOU EVEN THINK? FIREWORKS ON A MOVING TRAIN. A BOY DIED." There was a brief pause. "I DON'T CARE THAT HE GOT BETTER, THAT'S NOT THE POINT. YOU ARE RECKLESS, IRRESPONSIBLE, UNCARING, USELESS EXCUSES FOR WIZARDS. I'M ASHAMED TO CALL YOU WEASLEYS."

The station was so silent that Molly Weasley's next words were heard by everyone. "We'll discuss your punishment later. Come give your mother a hug."

"They're dead," Ron said with authority. "Hermione, can I stay at your house for the holiday."

"I have to come too," a young female voice said from behind him. "Dad told me to keep an eye on you." Ron looked and the girl showed him the nod. She was telling the truth.

"Ginny, this is Hermione. Hermione, Ginny loves to help clean house."

"Do not." She glanced back at her parents. "Yes I do. Almost as much as Ron."

* * *

"Can we do anything?" Harry asked as the shouting filled the station.

"Nowhere to run," John said casually.

"There you are," Narcissa Malfoy said from behind them. At once, she grabbed John into a hug. What she said was their first real mother-to-son hug.

"Knew it," Draco whispered to Harry. "It's going to be John this and John that all holiday long."

"It won't be that bad," Harry insisted. A second later, Narcissa Malfoy was standing before him. She gave him a quick hug and a short kiss on the cheek. "You are going to have a wonderful holiday, Harry. I promise." Her smile was so honest she had to return it.

"Draco, see to everyone's trunks." Narcissa Malfoy was still smiling at Harry. Then she winked at him while she said, "Draco, the trunks, now. We don't want to keep John waiting."

"Fine." Draco scowled.

Harry watched as Draco's Mum matched his scowl. "Do you know what your problem is young man?" The scowl became a smile. "You are so easy to tease."

A second later, Harry's eyes began to well up. John was next to him watching Draco hug his mother, watching her kiss his cheek. John whispered into his ear. "Now you know why I jumped at the chance to be part of this family."

* * *

Hermione watched as Ron moved his head slightly. Ron's sister also moved her head, barely. She looked over and saw their father. He looked like he was trying to do neck stretching exercises without letting anyone notice. Ron then moved his head sideways, no more that a quarter inch, then back to its original position. His father scratched the back of his neck.

"That's something, at least," Ginny said.

"What?"

"Dad says we can stay with you but we have to come back on Christmas morning. He'll set you up on the floo network tomorrow so it won't be a problem. He'll owl us a change of clothes."

Hermione was holding a hand to her forehead. "Your father said all that."

"Well," Ron added, "Your parents do have to agree. And we're not allowed to talk them into it."

"You shouldn't have told her that," Ginny hissed.

"Yes I did," Ron hissed back. "How else is she going to know that she's the one who has to do it?"

"I didn't agree, Ron."

"You don't have to. Only your parents."

"Please excuse my brother, Hermione. He's an idiot."


	11. The Holiday

A/N: The good news is that I have all the money to meet my bills and I still have two paychecks coming. (It's wonderful being paid weekly.) The bad news is that I've working late almost every night. That is cutting into my writing time (and editing and proofreading.) Just a warning that future posting may be irregular. On the other hand, if this keeps up, that dream vacation of Christmas in Key West may become a reality.

* * *

**The Holiday**

* * *

_It was in the middle of the night. My wife was asleep in bed. I could not sleep and decided to step outside to look at the stars. It was then that I understood a great truth. It is possible to be lonely in a crowded room. It is impossible to be lonely if you are loved. Even when you are alone, that person is with you._

_John told me once, long ago, that it was a lesson he had relearned many times_.

* * *

There was the prophecy. Not that they knew the whole of it. Severus Snape had only revealed it to Lucius after the Dark Lord's demise. Only after both were free of the clutches of Bartemius Crouch and his Inquisition. An easily bribable Inquisition, fortunately.

Lucius was sitting with her in the study. Three children were upstairs, in separate bedrooms, all fast asleep. Despite that, a silencing charm was still in place. They were discussing two of the boys.

"John?" Narcissa frowned at the thought. The many-faced man was in her house, asleep. Worn out from the long train ride from school. The legendary Angel of Light, the Lord Protector, was a boy of eleven that she had called, 'son'.

"He has . . . had . . . a time machine," Lucius was saying. "Not a time turner. I was assured that this machine could not only travel to any time but to any place as well."

"But the different faces?" Narcissa asked.

"Different lives, Love. Flittering back and forth through time for whatever reason. The man told me. He regenerates. John regenerates."

"But the machine?"

"Remember when Draco told us how John first became a wizard? He mentioned that John muttered something about having lost her. I think the one his lost was his machine."

"He called it a her?"

Lucius smiled. "He lost his time Ship."

Narcissa smiled as she understood. She frowned at once. "Does he know when?" She received an impish grin. In response, she shook her head in amusement. It was a time machine. It could be anywhere. Any when, she corrected herself.

"What do we do, Dearest?"

"We're doing it, and you're doing better than I am. We're giving him a home." Lucius sighed. "And that brings us to the Potter boy and the prophecy."

"He vanquished the Dark Lord." Narcissa paused as Lucius looked at the floor. "The man IS gone." She became nervous, fearful. "Lucius, tell me."

"Rumours," Lucius said. He would not look up. He would not meet her eye. "At least until this summer. I've been told twice that he's stirring."

"And you said nothing to me?" Her voice held anger and understanding. She would have wanted to know but there was nothing firm to grasp as yet. She knew that was the wrong question. She asked the correct one.

"Why tell me now?"

"I talked to the man about the future."

"He returns?"

Lucius honestly laughed. "The man wouldn't give me details. I only know two things about the future. Our young Mister Potter will someday write his autobiography, and what ever the challenge he will face, he will win through."

Narcissa smiled. "Otherwise why write an autobiography. And Draco is his best mate." Her thoughts drifted toward the dark and her smile faded away. "What of Draco?" she asked. "Harry is his closest friend and John is his brother. He stands between the Harbinger and the Boy-Who-Lived."

"And what of Draco?" Lucius repeated, lost in thought. He held out his hands to show he did not know. "He could become a hero. He could become one of the fallen. He could become . . . anything or nothing. I don't know."

"I want him safe," Narcissa insisted.

Lucius didn't answer. She knew why. She had demanded the one thing she couldn't have. Her son, her eldest son, was in danger because of his friends. A danger that was slowly approaching and which she could not stop.

* * *

Hermione had her hand to her forehead. She didn't know if she should laugh or cry. They were all gathered around the breakfast table. Ron was staring at his plate of pancakes, asking her mother if she actually made them by hand. She watched as he slowly ate a piece of a pancake. He then announced, in a surprised voice, that it tasted good.

"Almost as good as Mum's," Ginny Weasley said in a cheerful voice. "Thank you, Mrs. Granger."

"You're welcome, Ginny."

"And please forgive my brother. He's an idiot."

"Am not." Ron shrugged. "Surprised is all. Never thought about how to do things without magic."

"That's why you're an idiot."

"Nonsense," Hermione's father said. "It's like rubbing two sticks together to make fire." He smiled as Hermione looked at him in surprise. He turned to her. "You know how to do to that, Honey? Or are you too used to using matches." He turned to Ginny, "You probably don't know about matches. Never had a need for them."

Hermione and Ginny looked at each other in surprise. They both turned to look at the man grinning at them.

"There's always another way to do something," He told them. "Even if it's harder than the way you know." He turned to the boy in the room. "Thank you for noticing, Ron."

Ron smirked at his sister and moved his head slightly. She returned his grin. Ginny would later tell Hermione that her guess was right. Ron's nod said, "that's where she gets it from."

* * *

Harry was staring. He couldn't help it. They had decorated the school before the end of term. It reminded him of the time he was dragged along to a mall. This, however, was a home. A big home, huge, but still a home. This was a tree in front of him. Magic helped. The fact that they were rich also helped. There were fine ornaments and lights on the tree in the main hall but this one was different. This one in the study.

The lights dazzled. The tree had a fragrance. But the ornaments were not all polished and shiny. One in particular caught his eye. It looked like a ball of clay that was squished flat on one side. On the flat side was a drawing, no more than a stick figure with the word, pere, badly written beneath it.

"It's French for father," a soft voice said from behind him. He turned around to see Narcissa Malfoy standing behind him. "That ornament is eight centuries old. It has been hung as a decoration every Christmas since our ancestor received it from his young son. It was placed on the very first Christmas tree this family ever decorated."

Harry tried to picture it in his head. How young had the boy been? Did he have a huge smile as he ran up to his father? He was listening while looking at another ornament. It was more recent. Only half a millennium old. It was a snitch. Lydia Malfoy caught it. Her first match in her first year at Hogwarts. Others had walked in as another ornament was pointed to. 1666. The angel wings represented Aurora Malfoy who perished in the Great London Fire.

"This one." Narcissa pointed to a parchment torn into a circle. "This is the newest. From seven years ago."

Harry looked at the parchment. Better than the stick figure. A masterpiece from a four year old boy. The two larger figures had large hearts for bodies. Between them was a small figure with a small heart. Above them was written, 'LUV'.

"Draco doesn't mind?" Harry asked.

"He hates it. It'll disappear soon." She pointed to another ornament, a ring hanging from a bow. "That one will stay."

"What is it?"

"My engagement ring. Lucius hung it on the tree to be clever. He made the mistake of telling me about the ornaments before showing me the ring." She ruffled Harry's hair. "In my vanity, I told him that it means I'm part of his family, now. As though I was proposing to him. And then I kissed him to make sure he understood the point I was making." Her laugh made Harry laugh. "I was so vain, I never understood that he was proposing to me."

Harry was surprised when she gave him a sudden hug.

"Remember this, young man. Money and power can make you forget the smaller things. Dealing with . . . undesirable people can harden you to those who care. Never forget your friends. Never forget your family."

Harry stiffened. He received a kiss on the cheek.

"Your mother. Your father. The family that matters, Harry."

"You made him cry," Lucius said as he walked up with a cloth and wiped away a tear.

"L, U, V?" John asked.

"Easier to spell, that way," Draco replied.

Their father announced it was time for breakfast and that brooms were not to be flown inside the house.

* * *

Hermione was convinced from the beginning that it was a bad idea. Ron and Ginny both admitted they had never met muggles before. Thanks to her father's encouragement, they were now curious. Plus, they had to do something. She gave them a tour of the neighbourhood. And ran into Ritchie Evans and his friends.

"What's that?" Ginny had asked when the boy stopped in front of them. The boy laughed.

"You don't know what a skateboard is?"

Ginny shook her head. Evans looked at Hermione. He smiled. Her thought was that Draco did impish better. He rolled back and forth in front of them while his mates watched with amusement.

He stepped off the board. "Have a go."

"Thanks."

Ginny put one foot on the skateboard and pushed off. She rolled for a few feet, then tried to turn. One of the girls raced after the fleeing board as Ginny slipped off, barely keeping her feet. With an expert grab followed by a quick turn, the girl rolled back and dropped the board by Ginny's feet. "Try again," she said with a smile.

"What did I do wrong?"

"You ARE a friend of Granger," the girl grinned. "Smart enough to ask. Here, get on and just try going straight for a while. Find your center."

"We're heading to Burnam street," Ritchie told Hermione and Ron. "There's a park there. You're welcome to join us."

Ron gave his thanks while Hermione tried not to glare. Evans was never known for his kindness.

As they walked, Ron received a lecture about skateboarding. Evans was pointing out what his friend was trying to show Ginny. The other half dozen rolled along, one or two calling out a piece of advice. One rolled back, admitting that the ginger girl was good for a newbie.

"Why," Hermione asked when the two were alone.

"The girl, Ginny," Evans answered. He turned to her with a serious look. "You never wanted to do anything."

"I had more important things to do." She answered.

"How is it they know how to hang glide but they've never seen a board?"

Hermione had to grin. Ginny had mentioned to Ron, as her brother agreed to try, that it was like a broom except you used your feet and there were no protective spells. She had covered the blunder by saying that was what they called their hand gliders and the protective spells were the guy wires. They'd been doing it for years.

Ron and Ginny didn't understand why they were suddenly popular.

"I don't know," Hermione said, to answer the boy's question.

He said she had cool friends. She said that Ron was in her house at school.

He asked about brooms. She repeated 'hang gliders'.

He asked her what it was like to hang glide. She said she was too scared to try.

He suggested they could learn together. She said it wasn't as easy as skateboarding.

He said that Ginny learned quickly. She said Ginny had six brothers.

He said he was trying to get his grades up. She said, with a smirk, that she was first in her year.

He said he was sorry about the time he called her a smarty-farty. She said nothing that could ve been construed as English as she tried to control her anger. How dare he bring that up.

He said it was time to go. She said nothing because he suddenly leaned over and kissed her.

His face turned redder than hers. He said, "um, um." She said, "later". He smiled and said, "yeah."

Hermione walked home in a dream. Ron was bragging about how well Ginny did. Ginny said he should have kept trying. Ron told her that falling down twice was enough for him. Ginny pulled Hermione out of her dream when she asked about the kiss.

"Is he your old boyfriend?"

"Don't tell John or Draco," Ron admonished.

"He isn't . . . wasn't my boyfriend," Hermione insisted. She knew she was blushing.

* * *

Molly Weasley was satisfied that Fred and George had learned their lesson. The fact that they stood there and didn't even lower their heads while she yelled was all the proof she needed. Their punishment was to tell her all about John and how he felt about what happened. The hardest part to accept was that he now looked exactly like the Malfoy boy.

"That is why they adopted John," Arthur pointed out.

"We're going?" Fred was asking. "To the Malfoys."

"I haven't decided."

"Ron has to go," George pointed out. "We can't let him go alone."

Molly was confused. She knew the Malfoys. She knew the people they associated with. But her Ron was a mate of their Draco. And that muggleborn girl, Hermione. How was anyone supposed to make sense of it?

Breakfast was almost over when the fireplace flared. Ginny stepped out, holding a flashy piece of wood with patches of pink and green and purple. It had wheels attached. She shouted, "Mum, I'm back."

The fireplace flared again. Ron stepped though. Molly almost laughed when Ron whispered to his sister, "It's safe, then?" and she whispered back, "coward."

"What is that?" Molly demanded. Both her youngest children were grinning.

"Skateboard," Ginny said enthusiastically.

"And what is a skateboard?" Arthur was asking as he walked over and flicked one of Ginny's wheels.

"Muggle broomstick," Ron said, proudly. "You have to stand on it, though."

"And you can fall off," Ginny grinned.

"You're not using those dangerous things."

"Mum," Ron said as he opened up the sack he was carrying. "That's why she has these." He began pulling out pieces and naming them. "Elbow pads, knee pads, helmet."

"Why not use a cushioning charm," Percy asked.

"That's cheating," Ron insisted.

"Yeah," Ginny added. "No magic allowed."

They bumped their fists.

Molly rubbed her forehead. These two were definitely their father's children. She didn't even complain when Arthur led them outside, asking Ginny if Ron was telling the truth, that she was a natural.

"It's all about balance," Ginny was saying as the back door closed behind them.

She looked at her remaining sons. She waved her hand. They all ran outside to join in the fun. Molly walked over to a window and looked out. She could see fine. She would stay warm. And it was amusing to watch her sons trying to do something so simple as stay on a piece of wood while it rolled on wheels.

That was when Molly decided. Tomorrow, they would go to the Malfoys. Ginny would bring her wonderful muggle toy and show everyone. She watched as Ginny began spinning in place. Molly nodded. If the Malfoys weren't impressed, that was proof there was something wrong with them.

* * *

"You were great," Ron was saying to her later that day.

"I was lucky," Ginny insisted. She was a natural on a skateboard because she could stay on as it rolled. It was when all the wheels weren't touching the ground that she had trouble. Had she fallen again, with Mum watching, she would then be permitted to look at her board all she wanted. Look but not touch. And she didn't have too much pride. Next time she would agree to the cushioning charms. The pads protected her from most of the cuts and scrapes but she still felt it every time she fell.

Her proudest moment that day was not when her mother praised her, or thanked her for the thoughtfully made gift. It was when her mother suggested she bring her skateboard to the Malfoys. She smiled and said it was great. Then she hugged her mother.

Her happiest moment was when her father slipped her the potion to take care of that bruise on her side. From when she slipped and hit the hard ground.

* * *

Harry was tired. Christmas wasn't supposed to take so much energy. Or was it?

Draco and John both received new brooms. Harry had been given his early, before the first Quidditch match. It was mandatory that they try them out.

Lucius Malfoy stood on the back porch (which was larger than Uncle Vernon's house and yard at Privet Drive) and caused coloured balls to shoot out of his wand. The object was simple. Whoever caught the most would win a special present. Two hours later, three tired boys landed only to discover they had each caught the same amount.

"Father, how did you arrange that?"

"I'm very good, Draco."

"The way I see it," John was explaining over lunch, "it was a tie and we all won."

"Or there was no clear winner," Lucius countered, "and you all lost."

"Half hour overtime to determine a winner," Draco suggested.

"Only a half . . ." Harry started to say.

"One hour," Lucius Malfoy agreed, holding in his laughter until Harry said, "YES".

Harry admitted to Draco, as they made their way to their bedrooms that night, that he could have flown all day.

* * *

"What can we expect?" Padme asked.

"People who are very rich showing us that they are very rich." Parvati gave her sister an annoyed look. "I don't know. I've never been there."

"Parvati, everyone asks me about you. About your friends. Three of them are the most interesting boys in our year. And all you tell me is that they're all normal. Do you know what they're calling you? The Seven. Don't you understand?"

"You're kidding? Why Seven?"

Padme held up her hands. At each name she held up a finger. "Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived; John Smith, the regenerative mage; Draco Malfoy, the richest boy in, well, the world for all I know; Hermione Granger, the smartest girl in our year, possibly the school; Ron Weasley, the brother of the biggest clowns and the biggest prat in the school; You, and you are to clever what Granger is to smart. The two of you together scares even me; Neville Longbottom, who, well, no one knows why he's part of the group."

"He owns Trevor," Parvati explained.

"Trevor?"

"You'll meet him at the party."

"Wait. You don't mean that toad he carries with him? Oh, Merlin's sunglasses, you do mean that."

"I've already said it, Padme. Neville is there because he is always there." Parvati suddenly stopped. She had a realization. Neville was always there. There was nothing special about him. He had no stand out quality. Yet, he was always part of the group. She smiled at her sister. "Neville is there to keep us in place."

"And Trevor?" Padme asked, the sarcasm obvious to anyone.

Parvati thought of their first visit to Fluffy.

"He keeps watch when we . . . do things."

* * *

Arthur Weasley was mostly happy. He was worried about Ron. Because of Scabbers. Dumbledore had informed him that they were talking with the boy. They made sure he understood all about Pettigrew. They also made sure that Ron knew he did nothing wrong and that he had no reason to think he had.

Dumbledore was right. Ron had difficulty dealing with the discovery but recovered quickly. And that skateboard! His son had walked in the muggle world and held his own. His daughter had done the same. And they had made friends. He was so proud of them.

There was only one dark spot. The Ministry was trying to keep it quiet but word would get out sooner or later about Pettigrew's escape. Rockwood, the Auror on guard that night, was found unconscious, his last memory was turning his head when he heard a noise.

He kissed Molly goodnight, not letting her know his thoughts. Settling down to sleep, his last thought was that his family was safe.

* * *

Christmas day had fled into the past, leaving an army of tired children throughout the world. One of them awoke early in the morning before the sun was up. He washed in his private bathroom, dressed, put in his contact lenses and made his way downstairs. He paused as he heard the voices in the parlour.

"I have no objections to the man coming here," That was Lucius Malfoy. "What I do object to are the living arrangements you have made. Those people are the perfect example of why I hate muggles."

"Not all muggles are like them." That was Professor Dumbledore. And they were talking about the Dursleys? A hope ran through Harry's heart, that he might be done with them forever.

"What we want to know, Headmaster." Narcissa Malfoy was saying, "Is why such an arrangement was necessary, why it is still necessary."

There was a pause. Then Professor Snape's voice was heard.

"You must tell them, Albus. You've asked me to trust you so many times. I must ask you to trust me in this."

"Very well, Severus," Dumbledore said after another pause.

Harry listened as the old man explained how his mother's death created a bond of blood. "As long as Harry can call his aunt's house his home, the blood wards will protect him. Until he comes of age. That is why I placed him there. In my defense, and I admit it is a weak defense, I hoped that they would come to love him. As it is, I have given them enough warnings to prevent the worst abuses, but still, considering the alternative, it was the best thing for Harry."

Anger filled the boy as he heard the words. How could Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon be the best thing for him? The answer came quickly.

"He is right, Lucius," Professor Snape said in a sad voice. "We all know HE still has followers. Harry would have been a ready target for anyone wanting revenge. Even now, there are those who would kill him without hesitation, if they had the chance. You know that as well as I do."

"And you agree that he has to go back there at the end of the school year?" Lucius Malfoy's anger kept Harry's hope alive.

"Yes."

Harry let out a gasp as he heard Professor Snape make that pronouncement.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy was angry. Here were two men, one well respected, one that he trusted, telling him that Harry Potter had to be abused. Then Severus explained that the alternative was to make Harry a target for every Death Eater who was not in Azkaban. What was left unsaid was that Lucius, until recently, was one of these people that Severus was referring to. He asked the hated question and received the answer he did not want.

Narcissa held up her hand for everyone to be quiet. She had heard something. Lucius looked toward the doorway. He knew at once that someone was listening. He prepared himself for the worst as Narcissa walked into the hallway. If it were John or Draco, a sharp word and a warning would send them back to bed with a promise to say nothing. Then Narcissa said, "Harry?"

Dumbledore's sigh said it all. Harry had heard them. He led the way as the other two followed him from the room. This would add difficulties to his plans for the boy. To his plans to mold him with the proper attitude. To insure he had friends who shared his views.

* * *

It was Narcissa who raised her hand for everyone to be quiet. She nodded to both her husband and her guest when the whimpered noise was heard. "Someone was listening."

Without hesitation, she walked into the hallway. The boy she expected was huddled against the wall. A second later, he was smothered in her arms while three men watched helplessly. She, however, knew what to say. She knew the words to soothe.

"Hush, Harry," she said as softly as she could. "We're here. We'll always be here for you."

The serious conversation, the why and wherefore, could come later. Harry was still the child. He would grow stronger from this. That would happen over time. As the sobbing stopped, Harry looked up at her in embarrassment. She looked at him and smirked.

"Better to learn now, Harry, with friends here to help. Better than crying alone." Her words were so soft that only he could hear.

She helped him stand up.

"Sorry about . . ." Harry said, lowering his head.

"Completely understandable," Dumbledore said with sincerity. "You've heard that we plan on ruining your summer holidays." He looked at Narcissa as he said his next words. "You will need to go back there, but I don't think you have to stay there the entire summer. A couple of weeks should be sufficient. You might make plans to visit friends."

Narcissa smiled at the old man, assuring him he had said the right thing. She gave Harry another hug and told him that he always had a place to stay in her house.

* * *

Albus noticed with curiosity that Lucius Malfoy squeezed his right arm, without realizing it, when Severus mentioned the fact that certain people would want Harry dead. The man was honestly angry when Severus confirmed that Harry needed to return to the Dursleys. This made Albus wonder what had happened to change the man. Then Narcissa raised her hand for silence.

His first thought was a paranoid one. That a spy was listening. It was dismissed at once for the more logical one. An eleven year old boy. When Narcissa mentioned Harry's name, he sighed. It would be the one who didn't need to hear what was said. Who didn't need to hear these things just yet.

For all he knew of the Malfoy's, what he saw in the hallway surprised him. Narcissa was holding the boy, comforting him as if he were her own son. Mentally, the Malfoys were removed from his list of evil people, past the list of misguided, directly to the list of possible allies. What she was doing was clearly an act of compassion, if not love. He only wished he knew the cause for the change in these people. Could it be because of John?

Harry was on his feet again, trying to apologize. Albus was struck by how the boy could be so strong and so fragile at the same time. He made a quick judgement. The blood wards would not require the boy's constant presence. Only that Harry consider Privet Drive his home, regardless of how good a home it was. The boy's smile as he returned Narcissa's hug was all the proof Albus needed that his judgement was correct. These people would not deliberately hurt Harry. That was the most important thing.

After Narcissa led Harry away for an early breakfast, the three men returned to the parlour. Albus smiled at Lucius as they sat down again.

"Amelia Bones tells me you were instrumental in Sirius Black's release."

The man smiled back. "The Minister would have released the man eventually, after he made a big display about how he was being fair. I merely convinced him to tell everyone how he didn't hesitate."

"Cornelius told me," Albus admitted with a chuckle. "And you have no problem with the man coming here."

"Do you mean the Minister or Sirius Black?" Lucius drawled. "Seriously," he paused, "that was not a pun, by the way. My only concern is how Severus feels about it. To say the two do not like each other is an understatement. And I will be asking the two of them to spend several hours together, even if dozens of other people will also be there."

"This is important to Harry," Severus said coldly. "I promise to keep my feelings in check."

Albus couldn't help but grin.

* * *

Draco was wearing his new dress robes. John stepped in front of him, gave him a funny look, then straightened his tie. Draco looked down to see if his own tie was on properly. He then scowled at John. John laughed and walked away. Draco followed.

They both knocked on Harry's door. Harry opened the door and looked at them. And looked at them. And looked at them.

Draco sighed and raised his hand. "I'm John."

"I must have looked like a fool."

"You did. But now I understand why the Weasley twins do that all the time."

"Do what?"

"Nothing," Draco said as he and John laughed. A confused Harry followed them down the stairs to the ground floor of the mansion.

"Draco, dear," his mother said, giving him a peck on the cheek, "you look wonderful." As she said the same thing to John, Draco smirked as Harry scowled. Then Mother took Harry's hand and told him the moment had come. He had to meet someone.

Draco trailed after them with John at his heals. This was something they both wanted to see. They watched from the doorway of the study as Harry was led to the Christmas tree where their father was showing the ornaments to a thin tall man with a black beard.

"Sirius," Narcissa said in a calm voice, "may I introduce you to Harry Potter."

"Sir," Harry said politely and held out his hand. The man turned around and, for a minute, could only stare.

"His smile is as forced as Mother's," Draco whispered. "They never did like each other."

"My guess is he'll comment on Harry's eye," John said.

Draco thought for a moment. "His hair. He went to school with Harry's father."

They paused as they waited for the man to speak. The man took Harry's hand and shook it. "I heard you're on the Quidditch team. And you're still a first year."

"Youngest Seeker in a century," Harry bragged. "I caught the snitch in less than five minutes, our last match."

"I remember watching your father play. He was a natural on a broom."

"Was he a Seeker?"

"Chaser. He wouldn't sit still long enough to look for the snitch. He never had the patience. He always had to be in the thick of it." The man chuckled. "Patience. That definitely comes from your mother."

"Mister Malfoy gave me a Cleansweep for an early Christmas present."

"If I asked to see how well you fly . . ."

"It's this way," Harry said. When he turned around, he was grinning from ear to ear. Sirius Black had the same grin. Narcissa called after them to have fun.

Sirius paused when he saw the two blond boys. He gave them a confused look. "Twins?"

Both boys were smiling as John explained, "I'm adopted."


	12. Boxing Day

**A/N: I didn't expect to post this chapter so quickly. I know it is a holiday weekend where I am but I spent the first day of it sleeping. 12 hours day can be tiring, especially when you don't have a desk job. It's also more interesting i.e. fun.**

**Seriously, which answer would you rather give when someone asks you what you did over the past year?**

**1. I wrote reports on (your interest here) issues.**

**2. I built a bridge.**

* * *

**Boxing Day**

* * *

_I remember not only that day. I remember that week. Harry, John and I. When the New Year came, we had all changed. On th inside._

_Harry found someone he could call family. John was reminded of how much he was a part of our family. And me? How did I change? I learned I have a future. And my family is in it. _

* * *

Molly Weasley eyed her brood carefully. She still did not trust the Malfoys. Arthur had assured her that Dumbledore would be there. And Minerva McGonagall. That reassured her. She saw that it was just gone One. They were already an hour late. The only thing she approved of was that the party was in the afternoon, what with all the children involved.

"Be on your best behavior," She reminded her children. After they all agreed, including her two oldest, she had Arthur lead the way through the floo. She was the last to arrive. She had a tinge of fear of what she might expect.

As she stepped out of the floo, she heard her Ron saying, ". . . flying outside?" He was talking to two Draco Malfoys.

"Father, " one Draco drawled as he glanced at her own twins, "rented enough brooms for a Quidditch match."

"Ginny," her second oldest boy said, "You, Ron and Percy are Chasers. Bill, do you think you can handle Keeper?"

"What do you think you're doing?" Molly scolded. "We've only arrived. We haven't even introduced ourselves to our hosts."

Charlie smirked and walked to the entrance of the ballroom. He then shouted, "EVERYONE, WE'RE THE WEASLEYS. AND THE MALFOYS HAVE CHALLENGED US TO A QUIDDITCH MATCH."

Before Molly could react, applause erupted from the ballroom. "Fine," she muttered, "I hope you all freeze."

"So," Ron asked, "Who's on your team?"

* * *

Narcissa was smiling. Lucius had been nervous about Harry getting on with his godfather. The two had bonded in an instant over their love of Quidditch. Now Sirius Black was in front of the hoops as Keeper. Harry was flying above them all as Seeker. Her sons and Parvati Patil were the chasers. Terry Boot volunteered to be one of the Beaters.

Arthur Weasley had volunteered for the remaining position, assuring everyone he could still show his boys a thing or two.

"Molly, would you like to referee the match?" She asked half in jest.

"You planned this." Molly Weasley didn't seem happy.

"This, no. The possibility, yes."

On the other side of Molly, Professor McGonagall was trying to hide a smirk. "If I had my own Quidditch team, I'd have insisted on it."

"You're not helping," Molly insisted.

"One Galleon says the Weasleys will win," McGonagall said.

"I'll take that wager," Narcissa replied. It was going to be a wonderful party.

* * *

Arthur Weasley was indignant. He shouted at the referee, "You're calling a foul on ME?"

"Interfering with the opposing team's player," Severus Snape snarled back.

"He was about to commit a foul."

"Then I would have called it. You don't force him to change his actions simply because you're his father."

"That's exactly why I should do it."

Severus Snape was angry. "NOT DURING A QUIDDITCH MATCH."

"Bloody Slytherin," Arthur muttered as he flew back to his position.

"I HEARD THAT."

* * *

Harry was having a wonderful time. He was flying above everyone. Charlie Weasley was flying with him, giving pointers on how to be a good Seeker.

"It's a shame that no one teaches the sport. Not really." Charlie pointed. "See the snitch, over there, about five feet above Fred and to the right a little?"

Harry was surprised. "Shouldn't we chase after it?"

"Not this early," Charlie insisted. "Why ruin it for everyone. See the snitch?"

"Yeah?"

"Watch . . . there, did you see it turn?"

"Yeah?"

"Watch for the next turn."

Harry watched again. "There."

"Do you see? That time it turned at a right angle. I figured this out myself. A snitch will always turn at a right angle or a sixty degree angle. It alternates. And it never turns back on itself. Which direction it goes in always seems random, as well as the time. Except . . ."

"Except?" Harry asked.

Charlie smiled. "It never changes direction less than five seconds from its last change."

Harry nodded. That would be useful. "Then, if I see it change direction, and I'm diving for it, I should aim for where it will be in five seconds."

"That little piece of knowledge," Charlie said smugly, "made the difference in two of the matches we won when I had your position."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome, Harry. Why don't we fly after the snitch for a bit? It might warm us up."

* * *

"Do you want to trade positions, Sir?" the young boy asked after the twelfth time the quaffle went through a hoop.

"I'm only rusty. I haven't been on a broom in more than ten years." Sirius Black rubbed his shoulder. He eyed the first year boy. "Do you honestly think YOU could do better?"

"It'd be hard to do worse."

Sirius hated the fact that the boy didn't smirk. "Give me that bat," he snarled and flew off after a bludger. He turned to look a half minute later as the boy rushed to a hoop and swatted the ball away. Muttering to himself, he snacked the next bludger harder than he intended, almost hitting his own chaser.

* * *

After an hour, Charlie said it was time to hunt the snitch. Everyone should be getting cold enough. Harry nodded and flew away to find a good spot to look. It only took ten minutes. Charlie, on the other side of the makeshift pitch, was already moving but it was closer to Harry. The key would be when it changed direction. If it came his way or Charlie's. It changed direction at a downward angle. Harry dropped toward where it was heading. Charlie was picking up speed. Harry cursed the fact that John lent his own Cleensweep so that the Seekers would be evenly matched. Charlie was heavier. His broom went faster on the downturn.

They reached the Snitch almost at the same time. Harry reached out and grabbed at the snitch, to have his hand pushed out of the way.

Charlie pulled up on his broom, looking at an empty hand. When he looked over, Harry couldn't help but grin. Luck was with him. He had grabbed one of the wings between his thumb and forefinger. It was flapping wildly but he did have it.

"MALFOYS WIN. 220 TO 180."

* * *

"Good match," Ron said to Harry as they sipped the hot chocolate.

"Only won because of your brother," Harry smiled back.

"He let you win?" Ron asked in disbelief.

Harry noticed Charlie Weasley put a finger to his lips. He understood. Seekers' Secrets. "Hardly. Charlie was telling me about some of the things he did when he played Seeker. And they helped." He held two fingers close together. "Just enough."

To change the subject, Ron asked about Sirius Black. Why did he play Keeper when he wasn't any good? It was Severus Snape who answered, having heard the question as he passed by.

"I would blame the man's ego. He still knew how to fly a broom, therefore he should still know how to play Quidditch." He paused. "I'm letting my feelings show. Partly. The man did try to show off. He merely forgot that he had not played in ten years."

"Wicked Beater," Ron acknowledged.

"He always liked hitting things with sticks." The man gave a grumpy smile and walked away. He ignored the fact that both boys were smirking.

Padme Patil walked over with Terry Boot. "Can we annoy you?"

Harry and Ron smirked again. "Sure," they both said.

"We were talking about the Seven," Padme told them.

"Everyone does," Terry added. "And we always have the same question."

"Why Neville?"

"Why Neville what?"

"Why is he one of the Seven?"

Harry looked at Ron. Ron shrugged and answered. "I don't know. I don't even know why I'm one of the . . . Seven? Shouldn't it be Eight?"

"Why would it be eight?" Terry asked.

"Trevor."

"Maybe it's because Trevor isn't a student," Harry answered. "We'd have to make it nine then."

"Right," Ron nodded his head, "Fluffy's part of the group, too."

"Who, or what, is Fluffy?" Padme asked.

"Hagrid's dog," Ron explained.

"You're doing that deliberately," Padme admonished. "Just because we asked about the Seven. I'm not the one who started calling you that."

As she walked away, Terry had to ask, "I thought Hagrid's dog was named Fang?"

"Uh," Harry said as he realized he shouldn't have mentioned Fluffy.

* * *

Dorothy Boot was more than happy with the way things turned out. The big house was imposing, but the company was wonderful. The first person she talked to was a girl named Parvati who told her how wonderful Hogwarts was when she dared to ask. She felt privileged to learn about the little details, which Parvati said were the most important. The only bad part was that she needed to wait three years before she could see them for herself.

She learned that Hagrid's Hut was the best place for tea on a Friday afternoon or a cold Saturday. The man himself was a half giant and stood nine feet tall, maybe more. He had a pet Cerebus named Fluffy (which she promised never to reveal) which guarded a room in the castle. Parvati would visit the dog on a regular basis and even learned Fluffy's favorite lullaby so she could sing him to sleep when it was his nap time.

Parvati went to play the Quidditch match, which was fun to watch. (Especially when the adults started arguing with each other.) She left Dorothy with her friend, Hermione. Hermione told her about how she and her boyfriend, John, would find an empty classroom and practice casting advanced spells. Her boyfriend, Draco, would also join them. They knew all the first year spells perfectly and were starting on second year spells.

After the match was over, Parvati said she didn't know they were both her boyfriends. Hermione said they were boys and friends. That was all. Another girl, Ginny, said it wasn't as though she had kissed either of THEM.

Dorothy said that Ginny was lucky. She only had to wait until next year to go to school.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy found himself in an interesting situation. He was at one end of the ballroom, talking to Molly and Arthur Weasley as well as Albus Dumbledore. He was doing his best to be the perfect host. That they were talking about the Quidditch match made the first part of the conversation very easy.

The second part of the conversation was also easy. It concerned how everyone was doing at school. Albus Dumbledore made Lucius proud by revealing that John, with Draco close behind, was clearly the best boy in their year. He added, with deliberate casualness, Lucius noticed, that Ron Weasley did have a slow start but was showing steady improvement. He could easily end up being one of the top students as well. He wagered a Galleon that the Seven would be the top seven students in their later years.

"Seven?" Arthur asked.

"Your son," Albus pointed out, "and his friends. They've formed a close group. They're always helping each other, it seems." The man's eyes were twinkling. "They've even managed several feats of mischief without getting caught."

"Such as?" Molly asked. She wasn't smiling.

"The ususal things, but with a personal touch." Albus was smiling. "Sneaking into restricted areas of the school." He pointed out Hermione Granger. "She is the most likely culprit in an incursion into the restricted section of the library. No one was caught, but Madam Pince found a note the next day. It gave the locations where several books had been misfiled. I recognized Ronald's handwriting. It was obvious she was dictating to him."

Lucius snorted. "They went into the library to make sure the book were put away properly?"

"Apparently. While I found it amusing, Madam Pince was fit to be tied. I, of course, never told her about Ronald"

* * *

"You snuck into the restricted section of the library?" Dorothy was asking.

"John wanted to read some of the books," Hermione said. She gave a guilty smile. "I did notice a couple of books were out of place, so I left a note for the librarian. She complained that I, well, not me, she didn't know it was me, that someone accused her of being incompetent."

"She didn't recognize your handwriting?" Parvati asked.

"I had Ron write it out. He hardly goes to the library anyway. I knew she wouldn't recognize it."

"Is Ron another boyfriend?" Dorothy asked.

* * *

"Is that Celestina Warbeck?" Molly asked as musical notes were heard.

"It's me," Lucius said with an apology. He pulled the small rectangle out of his pocket and pressed his thumb to the charmed circle on one side. A green flame appeared on top.

"Is that you, Love?"

"Dearest, I thought this the perfect time to test these wonderful little things." Narcissa's voice came out of the flames. "We agreed to ask the Weasleys."

"Is that your wife?" Arthur asked in surprise.

"Wonderful," Narcissa's voice said. "I could hear him almost as well as I could hear you." Lucius looked across the room at his wife as her voice said, "I am predicting that they will love these portable flooes. Goodbye, Dearest,"

"Portable Floo?" Dumbledore asked.

"A business venture with Marcus Boot. He developed the spell. I finance the development and marketing. We're in the testing stage." Lucius smiled. A businessman smile. Perhaps he could convince the Headmaster to test the product as well. An endorsement would be too much to ask but he could still comment that the staff at Hogwarts were involved in the testing.

He explained what the Portable Floo was supposed to do. They were trying to find out what kind of problems there might be. He asked if Molly and Arthur would like to test them. He showed them how to personalize the portable floo. Thumb on the charmed circle. Tap the top with a wand. Say the name you want to be called by. Arthur Weasley and Molly Weasley.

Arthur Weasley asked if they could use only their first names. That would make it less awkward. Then it happened. The moment that told Lucius that, if the floo worked as it was supposed to, he was sure to make a profit. Molly Weasley asked a favour. Could she get one for her daughter as well? It would make it easier when she needed to call Ginny home.

"Albus," Lucius said in his best I'm-not-talking-to you-as-a-salesman voice, "you seemed interested?"

"Curious, mostly. I don't see much need for such a device at Hogwarts. We have plenty of fireplaces."

* * *

"I am completely out of place," Sirius Black muttered.

"You were in prison for ten years," Mister Granger reminded him. "At least you had an idea of what to expect when you arrived here."

"You mean a magical residence? That was about it. When I went to . . . that place, the Malfoys were the enemy. I come back to find out that Lucius Malfoy helped make sure I was released at once, as soon as they realized I was innocent. Lucius Malfoy's solicitor makes sure I am given proper compensation for my time, including any and all medical help if I ever need it. Lucius Malfoy arranges for me to meet my godson in the best possible circumstances." Sirius drained his drink in one gulp. "And then I make a bloody fool of myself at Quidditch."

"You weren't that bad."

"You weren't shown up by some boy who had never played that position before."

"There is that," Granger admitted. "At least the wine is good."

* * *

"How are we doing?" Narcissa asked as she managed to be alone with her husband. She pronounced the dinner a success.

"We have the approval of the Weasleys. Which means that Dumbledore trusts us. Sirius Black is over being upset about his Quidditch skills. He is now exaggerating how badly he played." He pointed with his wine glass. "You can see Harry loves him all the more for it."

"The entire party is a success, then? I talked with the Grangers, briefly. I admitted that the only muggles I ever spent time with had an estate almost as large as ours. Thankfully, Marcus' wife came to my rescue. The Patils were much easier to talk to. And I did notice that Severus did manage to mingle with the guest and avoid Sirius Black completely." She paused. "Our guest from Cardiff. He cancelled with regrets."

"That was expected. I had hoped to talk with him." He shrugged his shoulders. No more chances to glean tidbits of the future. "Look, one sad face." It was one of the Boot boys. Four, maybe five. They watched for a bit. The boy was walking from group to group, standing for a minute before walking to the next group.

Narcissa smirked at her husband. "Everyone leaves a Malfoy party with something to smile about."

Lucius gave her a fake snarl. "Why can't he be like their two year old and take a nap?"

He casually walked over to the boy. He smiled when the boy looked up. He lowered himself to one knee and held out his hand. "You're the one I haven't met yet. I'm Lucius."

"Liam." The boy returned his smile and shook his hand.

The conversation was easy. They agreed quickly that they had nothing in common. Lucius wasn't interested in whoever Mervin the muggle was and Liam didn't care about the Minister's tax reforms and their effect on the economy. In a short time, Liam had thought that being read a story was an excellent idea.

Lucius led the boy to the study, ensconced him in a chair by the Christmas tree, with a cup of hot chocolate and a plate of biscuits. He then pulled a book off a shelf. As he sat down, he heard a voice from the doorway.

"Father?"

"Draco? Liam was bored. I was going to read him a story."

"Oh?" asked a second, identical voice. "What's it about?"

Twin boys walked into the room. Lucius looked at the boy in the chair. "See what you've started? Now, everyone's going to want a story."

As the boy laughed, a girl's voice was heard, "Is there going to be a story?"

"It's my story, Dor," Liam called out.

"I only wanted to listen."

Lucius kept himself from laughing as the boy nodded his head.

"Anyone who wants to listen, come in and sit down . . . quietly."

Four girls followed the two boys. They were followed by almost everyone it seemed, with most of the adults standing outside. It was not what he had planned but Lucius never had a problem with being the center of attention.

"Is everyone ready?"

"Why does he get hot chocolate?" the girl, Dorothy, asked.

"Because it's his story. Is everyone ready? Good." He opened the book. "This story is part of the Malfoy family history. It concerns an incident that occurred before the Malfoys fled England for France."

"But we're in England." Liam pointed out.

"Yes we are. The family came back with William the Conqueror."

"But that was a thousand years ago," another Boot said.

"Really?" Liam asked.

Lucius nodded his head. "And this story takes place three hundred years before that."

Before he began the story, Lucius pointed out that he had all but forgotten it until someone (he pointed out Ron Weasley to the boy) had pointed it out to him.

The story concerned an ancestor, Rhys Mal Fey, who at the time was the last in the male line of the Sorcerer, Modred.

"MAL FEY?" Liam asked.

"It changed to Malfoy while we were in France. He was the first to be called MAL."

"Doesn't that mean bad?" a boy asked, one of the Patil sons.

"At the time it also meant ill, unkempt and, in this case, dark."

"Rhys was a dark wizard?" Liam asked in surprised, and a small bit of fear.

"He was a dark wizard," Lucius said casually, "The same way Harry Potter is."

"I'm not a dark wizard," Harry insisted, the small fear in his voice as well.

John laughed. Draco was smirking and grabbing at Harry's hair, holding up a lock for everyone to see.

"Yes, he is. See. And I'm a light wizard." He held up a lock of his own pale blond hair.

"The Mal means he had black hair?" Liam asked. When Lucius nodded his head, the boy said, "Oh," and grabbed his cup of hot chocolate. The fear was gone and only curiosity was left.

The last of Arthur's line had failed. There was a war for the succession, a war which would tear the kingdom apart rather than preserve it. Rhys hadn't known at first that he was in line for the succession. He wasn't, but as the war spread, his claim became greater simply by the fact that he was still alive. Not that he had any support. Most men found that wizards rarely made good kings.

If he had the slightest chance, Rhys would have vied for the throne. He was smart enough to know he couldn't succeed, so he did the next best thing. He distanced himself. Literally. He left Wales for the Kingdom of Cornwall in what is modern day Devon. He did not travel far enough.

Three men, paid for by the current king of what was once Camelot, came upon him. He was at the local ironworks, where the old wizard who ran the place was putting a new edge and new charms on his sword.

Rhys was knocked aside by the old wizard who began casting shield charms against arrows. The brave knights had decided it would be easier to attack from behind.

Two wizards against three knights would have seemed an easy fight, but the knights were warded. One of them was also a warlock. A sudden and unexpected spell caused the shields to fail at the same moment two arrows sped for Rhys' chest. Except the old wizard stepped in front of Rhys and took the arrows himself.

As the old man fell, the wild magic raged in Rhys Mal Fey. Without thought, he grabbed his blade from the fire and charged his enemies. His free hand waved furiously, casting shield and curse. One slashing cut and the warlock fell. The two remaining knights paused in surprise as their wards disappeared. That was enough time for one of them to die. The other raised his sword only to have it cast from his hand. A still hot sword was at his throat, burning him. The knight fled to carry Rhys' message to his king. If anyone else came for him, he would come for the throne. Not to take it but to empty it.

The battle over, Rhys dropped the sword. By the miracle of his magic, his skin was unburned. He turned to the old wizard. And could not find him. In his place was a young boy with no more than a decade of age.

It did not take long for Rhys to understand that this boy, who had no knowledge of his past, was the same old wizard who had sacrificed himself. He made a pledge to the boy, then and there. The boy was under his protection and in his care, an adopted son. Rhys' house and home would always be open to him whenever he was in need, from that day forward and as long as his line would survive.

He taught the boy all he knew and all he knew about the boy's past. He named the boy Eon, which was his name form before. And so the boy would not forget his heritage, he gave the boy the full name of Eon Ap Smythe.

Liam had fallen asleep by the time the tale had ended, a happy smile on his face. Lucius was looking past him. At the blond boy staring back at him.

"Welcome home, John."

* * *

Harry couldn't help himself. The story brought happy tears to his eyes. To think that John had such close ties to his adopted family. When everyone, except for those who were asleep, returned to the ballroom, the first thing he did was thank Sirius Black for being there. Sirius assured him that everyone needed family. When he had the chance, he said the same thing to Professor Snape. The Professor smiled, and said that Sirius was watching. Harry had to ask if he really made his godfather's clothes disappear during a Quidditch match. The Professor barked a laugh before he could catch himself.

Harry had another duty to perform once the party ended. He had to stand in line to say goodbye to the guests. He overheard Ron's Mum say that they'd surely misjudged these people. Ron reminded him that they would be seeing each other the next day at the Burrow. "Not as fancy but you don't have to worry about breaking anything."

The Weasley twins proved themselves. The first one walked up to one of the Malfoy twin. The first one said, "good match, John." John answered, "it was great, Fred." The second one said, "Thanks for having us Draco," to which John (or was he really Draco?) said, "Thanks for coming George." They reversed the order of introductions for 'probably Draco'.

Hermione came up, put both hands on 'probably Draco's' shoulders. After a pause, she said, "thank you, John." She then thanked Draco. Harry had to ask how she knew who was who. She smiled. "When I put my hands on his shoulder, I could feel both of John's heartbeats with my palms. It was easy. See you on Friday." Harry gave her a funny look but she only laughed at him.

Sirius promised to be by early for them. "I had to invite John and Draco." Harry agreed it would be great. He asked about Friday. Sirius pointed him toward Lucius Malfoy.

The last to leave were the Boots. One small boy leaned sleepily on his father's shoulder. Another, a smaller version was asleep in her mother's arms. The woman had her free hand on her swollen belly, assuring Narcissa Malfoy that it would be before the New Year. Hopefully, not before they made it home.

When they were finally alone, Harry asked about Friday.

"Did I forget to tell you?" Lucius asked. "I must have." He smiled and said formally, "We have been invited to attend the Wizengamut Meeting Hall for the final reading of the revisions to the trade agreement between the International Conference of Wizards and the Government of Arcateen."

Harry admitted that he had never heard of it. He asked if it was in Asia. His eyes went wide when he was told it was in the Constellation of Taurus. He was going to see ALIENS!

* * *

Draco understood why they had Hermione come early to the Manor for dinner before they went to London. They had too much to talk about. Comparing the Burrow to Malfoy Manor was a hard feat to manage but they were able to convince Hermione that she missed out on a wonderful time. John bragged how they even had a ghoul in the attic.

"And we don't even have an attic," Narcissa said in a sad tone.

Halfway through the meal, Hermione finally asked about the trade negotiations. What did they trade? She was surprised that it was mostly food. "Those berry tarts at the party," Narcissa reminded her. "The orange and yellow berries, they come from there."

"They were wonderful. Sweet and spicy at the same time."

When they arrived, the hall was already filling up. A government clerk, acting as usher, showed them to their seats. The first row of the balcony, giving them an excellent view of the podium. Draco's only hope was that the reading wouldn't take long. It might be fun to see an alien, but not for two hours. At least Hermione would be happy.

He managed to have the aisle seat, next to Hermione. Harry sat on the other side of John. His parents were at the other end of the short row, his father having the opposite aisle seat. He looked around to see if there was anyone he knew.

Someone, sitting across the aisle, was staring at him. "A child? My dear, it's them." "And the girl," the woman said as she leaned forward to see. The someone held out his hand as he realized Draco was looking back at him. "A pleasure to meet you. Master Malfoy. James Madison Carver, American Ambassador to the ICW."

"The pleasure is mine, Sir," Draco said politely. Inside he was wondering what was going on. The Americans knew about him?

"May I ask . . ."

"I'm Draco. John is on the other side of Hermione."

Hermione turned when she heard her name mentioned. Draco introduced her to the Ambassador, who told "Miss Granger" that it was his pleasure. Draco hid his cringing. The Americans even knew her name. If they did then everyone must know. He looked at the people behind him. A half dozen flashes went off, blinding him briefly.

"The price of fame," Ambassador Carver said with a chuckle.

Draco wondered. Was he popular? Or well know? He would have to find out. Father called his name to let him know that the formalities were about to begin.

Draco looked down at the podium. The alien, the Arcateenian Ambassador was walking out. Floating would have been correct. As though being moved by a light breeze. She stopped before the podium as the Chief Wizard of the ICW introduced Madam Ambassador whateverthenamewas. The Ambassador began to speak.

Music filled the hall. Draco felt at peace, wanting nothing more than to listen. The words spoke to him of knowledge and understanding, that all was right with the world. Next to him, Hermione whispered that it was beautiful. She only wished she knew what they were saying. John began translating.

"Charter regulations to be amended as follows. Judicial determinations, Chapter one, paragraph six, word eighteen, buyer, the words 'or seller' to be added in conjunction with . . . do you want me to continue?"

Hermione agreed they should listen.

As Draco watched in awe, the alien seemed to slowly turn in place so that she would face every side of the hall at one point or other. He smiled as her movement brought her to face in his direction. He looked down. She was looking directly at him.

"Welcome to you, Draco Malfoy. It fills me wish pleasure to see you again."

"We met before?"

"In the future. John will have explained the principles of time travel to you by that time. I am joyous to see that you have not changed."

"What? Will you know that we've met before, I mean that we've met now, when I see you then?"

A soft, wonderful laughter enveloped him. "We are a psychic race. We often have premonitions. I will know when I meet you for the first time that you have met me before. Do not worry."

"Um, thank you for talking to me."

The laughter came again. "I promised your wife that I would talk to you. You told me I did after I gave my word. It made me happy to know I would keep my vow."

"Wife? Do I . . ."

"Hermione marries another."

"Then who do I . . . should I ask?"

The laughter again. Soothing and caressing. "You wish to know whom you will marry? When you step outside, look above you and you will see. You will not understand, but you will see."

"Did my wife put you up to this?" He thought to himself he was probably going to marry the Weasley girl. She would do something like that.

"You did, Draco. You are handsome for your race when you have your impish grin. And no, it is not Ginny Weasley, either."

"Oh." Thoughts flooded his mind. The one that held his attention was that he was playing a joke on himself. He grinned at the idea

"That is the Draco Malfoy that I remember. Good life to you."

"And good life to you." Draco gave her a smile.

"Draco," Hermione hissed at him. "Wake up. I can't believe you fell asleep."

Draco turned to her and stared. He became aware of the noise around him. The reading was over. Everyone was leaving.

Embarrassed, Draco was led out of the hall. He felt worse when the American Ambassador's wife made it a point to tell Hermione that the music affects everyone differently. Mother gave his shoulders a squeeze to show him he didn't do anything wrong. "Too much excitement, dear."

Worst of all was the feeling. That the dream he had wasn't a dream. That no one would ever believe him. A clerk, the same clerk who had ushered them to their seats, was waiting for the Malfoys as they exited the hall into the entrance way. He seemed unusually nervous.

"E-Excuse me, Sir, um, I've been asked by the Arcateen Ambassador to invite Mister Malfoy and his company to the formal reception."

All of the people within hearing, Draco noticed, were looking at Father. Father was trying to look haughty and humble at the same time. This must be a great honour, Draco thought. Father held out his hand for the invitation. The clerk hesitated.

"Mister Draco Malfoy, Sir."

Draco held out his hand when Father repeated his name. He took the invitation.

"Neaza," he whispered.

"Shall we go, Mister Malfoy?" Mother asked. Mixed in with the surprise and amusement was pride. For him.

The next two hours were a blur. Draco's picture was taken by dozens of people as he entered the reception hall. He was introduced at some point to almost everyone. Famous Witches and Wizards, a dozen heads of state, countless ambassadors. And not once was he given a clue as to why he was so popular. Near the end, he came face to face with Neaza. He didn't even wonder that he knew to call her that. She smiled at him. A voice spoke directly into his head.

"This honour is because you did something wonderful, Draco Malfoy, and you do not even know that you did it."

Neaza made a curtsey, beautiful in its flowing movement.

Draco bowed to her saying, "Until we meet again, My Lady."

As they left, the reception for the short trip home, Draco decided that he would not tell his dream conversation to anyone. They wouldn't believe him. Worse, they might make a joke out of it. And he did one more thing. As they stepped out of the building, he raised his head upward, not sure what he should be looking for.

"What do you see?" Mother asked when she noticed.

What did he see? Draco shrugged his shoulder and said, "the sky."


	13. Return to School

**A/N: My thanks to everyone for reading. And especially to the reviewers. Colibi's review has caused me to admit one of the reason's for the delay in posting this chapter. I had to watch the Snowmen and all eight episodes of Series Seven, Part Two. And the DVD extras.**

**I'd like to tell Asj Johnson that I didn't think the first line of her review was sarchastic. As to Hermione's boyfriends, I apologize if I didn't make it clear that it was Dorothy calling them boyfriends. After all, why else would someone as old as Hermione want to spend time with boys? (says Dorothy.)**

* * *

**Return to School**

* * *

_Draw two overlapping circles. In one circle list all prime numbers. In the other circle, list all even numbers. These represent two sets of numbers. In the overlapping area, enter the number 2. This is the only number common to both sets. An even prime number._

_In Hermione's diary, on one of the earlier pages, are two overlapping hearts. One is labeled John. The other is labeled Draco. In the overlapping area she has written her own name._

_She hit me when she found out I read her diary._

* * *

"Why couldn't I tell them I was you?" Draco asked as he collapsed onto a seat in their train compartment.

"That would have helped," John replied as he pulled down the curtains over the corridor windows. "Then you could have answered their questions." He paused. "What is the answer, by the way?"

"I don't even know the question." Draco shrugged. "Hermione, you're smart. What is the question?"

"Who cares? What? Oh, I don't know."

Draco turned to Harry, who shrugged.

There was a knock at the door. Ron's voice was heard. He said Neville was with him. John opened the door and closed it almost at once. He pulled it back open again as a girl's voice shouted, "don't you dare."

"That was strange," Draco said as Parvati walked into the compartment. No one questioned why he made that remark. Each compartment held a three-person bench, with cushions, on each side. Now, each side had a pair of two-person benches with a hand rest separating them.

"I didn't even notice the change," Harry pointed out.

"What change," Hermione asked, looked around and nodded her head.

Parvati cast a glance at John. John whispered that she was a bit off when they met at the station. "Mum had a quick word with her and she seemed better." He shrugged his shoulders,

Parvati nodded. Hermione became her immediate concern. She was willing to bet her eye teeth it was about a boy. Not that she knew. She didn't need her eye teeth and it would make Hermione smile.

Everyone else turned to Draco. Ron was first.

"Everyone is asking me about you. Why?"

"Aliens," Neville answered. "I told Gran we should have gone to the party." He added softly. "More fun than the party I had to go to." He looked up. "Why Aliens, Draco?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Croak," explained Trevor, in support of his friend and owner.

Draco stared briefly at the toad. "I don't know." He turned to everyone else. "That's the truth. I don't know. Neaza said . . ." He stopped himself. "Never mind."

"Who's Neaza?" Ron asked.

"You know Neaza?" John asked. "How do you know Neaza?"

"Who is Neaza?" Ron asked John.

"Oh, she the General of the Unvanquished Fleet and Ambassador Plenipotentiary to the ICW." He turned back to Draco. "How do you know her?"

"I don't," Draco said stubbornly. "She knows me." He paused until John opened his mouth. "I don't know how she knows me. You'll have to ask her."

"Oh, right. Never mind then."

Harry raised his hand. John told him it was not a classroom. Harry said he had a question. Did he understand correctly that the reason that Draco was the center of attention of everyone in the wizarding world because he was personally invited to a party by a very influential alien and NO ONE knows why?

"No one who's human," John answered.

"I've got it," Ron said. "We tell them that Harry asked, uh, this lady to do it to make Draco felt better, what with his new brother being the center of attention."

"What, you're blaming me?" John asked.

"Well, Draco was complaining about how you were always getting special treatment."

"Was I?" Draco asked, then added quickly, "it was quite annoying. I even felt as though I wasn't special anymore."

"Oh," John said after a pause. "And it put me in my place. Draco, from now on I will always make sure you feel special and unique."

"You're my brother, John. We'll be unique together,"

"Harry?" Neville asked. "Can I be invited the next time you meet aliens?"

Harry tried not to laugh. "Will people believe that? Because I'm the Boy-Who-Lived?"

"They'll believe anything," Hermione said angrily.

There was a knock at the door.

John, who was still standing, opened it. Terry Boot asked to come in. He was half pushed in by the crowd before John could say yes.

"Why's your compartment bigger than everyone else's?"

"Too many people," Hermione said with a glare.

"What now?" Draco muttered.

"I'm sorry," Terry said quickly to Hermione. "And it wasn't my fault either."

"What wasn't?" Draco asked.

"Uh, my mum asked her Mum how old she was when they adopted her."

Parvati pulled out two sickles from her pocket and handed them to Ron. Ron assured her she should never bet against a Weasley.

Harry was the first. He looked at Hermione's surprise as the coins traded hands. He began to laugh.

* * *

"Dearest," Narcissa said as the boys boarded the train with Hermione. "Could we walk out instead of apparating?"

"Let me guess, Love," Lucius asked as they turned toward the entrance to Kings Cross proper. "The brief conversation with Miss Granger. She's too young to have boy problems."

"She revealed herself to a young man of her acquaintance. She's afraid for him."

As Narcissa related the conversation, Lucius understood. A boy that was infatuated with Granger, not the other way around. He wasn't a 'good' boy but was trying to improve himself. Because of her. The unspoken part was easy. If he were to forget Hermione then . . .

"He's only a muggle," Lucius pointed out. He was already thinking about what he would do. And why. Hermione Granger would be grateful to him. For now, that meant nothing. In twenty years, it could mean a great deal. And all he had to do was make sure some muggle boy didn't lose his memories.

They stepped through the barrier and toward the exit. Lucius kept his eyes open for some mopey teenager missing his girlfriend.

"There," Lucius said proudly as they exited the building.

"Where?" Narcissa asked.

"Leaning against that phone box. The one that the two Aurors are approaching."

Lucius excused himself and took a curious step, startling a young boy that he suddenly appeared next to. He smiled at the two approaching Aurors. "Kingsley Shacklebolt, isn't it." He put his arm on the boy's shoulder. "And . . ." his voice held surprise. "Nymphadora? Is that you? You're full grown and an Auror? Has it been so long?"

"Auror?" the boy asked.

"Magical police. I was told you know about police."

"Yeah."

"Mister Malfoy?" Shacklebolt's tone asked the question. Why should they not oblivate the boy?

Lucius Malfoy patted the boy's shoulder and told him not to run. He leaned over and whispered a word into the man's ear. Shacklebolt's eyes grew wide. They narrowed as they turned on the boy and memorized his every feature.

"I'll inform Scrimgeour," Shacklebolt said.

"Thank you, Kingsley. Nymphadora, we should keep in touch." He said, with less emotion, "times have changed."

The young woman looked confused, briefly. Then her look changed as she decided something. "It's Tonks. I . . . don't like that other name."

"Don't blame you," the boy said with a smirk.

Tonks gave a genuine smile. "Bring him along when you visit." She paused. "I'm staying with Sirius. Helping him clean house. Get rid of his mother's portrait. Things like that."

Lucius nodded with a smile. She was a clever girl to test him like that. The onus was now on him. He was up to the task. "We'll be in touch." He held his smile as they left. He would even bring the muggle boy.

Lucius looked down. "You are Ritchie?"

"Ritchie Evens, yeah."

"And you were told that magic was to be kept secret?"

"Yeah."

"Were you told what would happen if anyone found out that you knew about magic, as you had no reason to know?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Then why were you stupid enough to show up here?"

The boy looked down, glanced at the Aurors who were walking away. Then he looked down again.

"I'm just stupid is all."

"That is a lie and you know it." Lucius couldn't help himself. He fell into his lecturing voice. "If you were stupid, Hermione Granger would have called the police and had you arrested as a follower."

"Stalker," the boy supplied. His frown was now a sheepish grin.

"Thank you. And the only reason I am here is because Miss Granger was worried about you, with good reason. You should try to think things through before you act. Shacklebolt would have asked you if you were a friend of hers. The next thing you'd know was that you weren't paying attention to where you were walking and you had no idea where you were now."

"Yes, Sir." The sheepish grin was gone and the frown was back.

"One more thing, and you must not question me one this. What happened here could happen again, and I won't be there to help you." He had the boy's full attention. "If anyone asks you about Hermione or anyone with a wand tries to question you, you tell them one particular word. And you use your strongest voice to let them know that one word explains everything. If they question you, tell them to call their boss."

"The word?"

"Torchwood. Say it."

"Torchwood."

"No. That sounds like a question. Say it with authority."

"Torchwood."

"Better. A little softer and imply that the person you're talking to is supposed to know what you're talking about."

Ritchie said, in almost a casual, offhand voice, "Torchwood."

Lucius gave his approval. The stern look with the eyes was a good touch but he shouldn't hold contact.

"Mister, what's it mean?"

Lucius smiled as he lied. "I have no idea. But when I use that word, people who should know better always step out of my way."

* * *

Terry Boot was supposed to be asking them about 'The Seven' and Draco visit to the alien's party. Instead he was answering questions.

"I think 'Why Neville' is the dumbest question. Ron said it at the party. He wondered why him." Neville nodded and smiled. "And when you think about it, Harry does have a legacy, he should be the leader, but he isn't."

"Unless," Draco pointed out, "what we're doing is his idea,"

"Terry's right, though," Harry noted. "This whole idea of THE SEVEN is stupid. The reason we're friends is because of, er, the accident."

"And Hermione's suggestion that we all go to the same house," Neville said.

"And Draco agreeing," Ron added.

"What?" Draco asked.

"Yeah," Ron insisted. "If you had gone to Slytherin, Harry would have followed you there. And maybe . . . John as well."

"And you?" Draco asked.

"I don't know. Probably Gryffindor. And we would never have become friends."

"Maybe it was you," Terry said half seriously. He added as an explanation, "mum always points out the Malfoys and the Weasleys as the two extremes."

"Is that Celestina Warbeck?" Neville asked.

"It's me," Hermione said as she pulled out her portable floo. With everyone watching, she pressed the charmed circle. "This is Hermione."

"Hi, Wonder Girl. I heard you were worried about me."

"Hermione has a real boyfriend?" Terry asked.

"Be quiet," Hermione insisted.

"Not her boyfriend, mate," The voice insisted. "Not yet," it added in a cheeky voice.

"Almost not ever," an adult voice admonished.

"Father?"

"Let the children talk, Draco. Please be quiet."

"Yes, Father."

Terry looked over to see Draco shrugging his shoulders to Harry.

"I was worried," Hermione admitted. Her eyes dared anyone to say anything.

"And I was a right Charlie," the voice admitted. "I'll do better next time."

"Bring flowers," John advised. "Girls always like flowers."

"Will do, mate."

The green flame faded away.

"Bring Flowers?" Hermione demanded.

"He isn't a boyfriend?" John shrugged. "Flowers are still nice."

"I'm going to start a rumour," Parvati said in the sudden quiet. "That Hermione is now dating Neville."

"How can we be dating?" Neville asked. "You have to go somewhere on a date. And I thought you liked Ron, now?"

"What?"

Everyone looked at Terry. Terry looked at the door. Draco put his hand on the door. Terry looked scared.

"It started when you kissed Draco. At the Sorting."

"I didn't kiss Draco."

"Several people who clearly did not see anything said you did," Terry said, catching his stride. "Who would you believe? A bunch of rumour mongers? Or a girl who won't even admit that she's adopted?"

"I'm not adopted."

"Her parents are squibs," Neville added helpfully with Ron agreeing.

"Rumours," Terry said, pointedly.

"Am I dating Ron?"

"Now that you've dumped both John and Draco. And you already broke up with Neville. You were his partner in potions twice in a row,"

"Terry, how did I end up with Ron?"

"What's wrong with me?" Ron asked.

"Wait," Harry insisted. "What's wrong with me? Why don't I get the girl?"

"I wished you'd argue over me," Parvati muttered.

"No, you don't," Hermione insisted.

"So, Terry," Parvati suggested, "Why don't you explain it to Harry. He was raised as a muggle, you know."

"Oh," Terry said, trying to smile as he turned to Harry. "Rumour has it, you're going out with Draco."

"I can see that," Draco nodded. "We're always together in Potions."

"You mean everyone thinks I'm . . . "

"It's always about you, isn't it?" Draco insisted. "Terry, start a new rumour. We've split up and we're only friends. Barely."

"I only repeat rumours. I don't start them."

"Then repeat what I told you. Problems solved."

"But."

"Not yet," Ron insisted. "I don't care about Harry and Draco. I want to know why Hermione is stuck with me."

Terry tried to keep a straight face.

"Parvati dumped you."

"Finally, I get a mention. Did I have a good reason?"

* * *

Kingsley Shacklebolt had finished his report to his superior. Rufus Scrimgeour said nothing. For almost two minutes.

"The boy. Find out everything you can without letting anyone know what you're doing. General information. We'll see what we come up with before we go into depth."

"Auror Tonks is taking care of that, now."

"Good. Remind her that we're walking on eggshells. And Kingsley, set up a prep to tag Lucius Malfoy. Carefully."

"Is that legal?"

"Only if anyone finds out about it. And only if I'm wrong." He looked Kingsley in the eye. "I'm willing to take that responsibility."

Kingsley dared to ask. "Rufus. What is Torchwood?"

"It isn't anything. It hasn't been anything since it was founded 150 years ago."

* * *

"Curious boy," Lucius remarked as he and Narcissa returned to the Manor.

"In what way?"

"He is clearly besotted with the Granger girl. He doesn't seem the type."

"Love often causes strange things to happen, Dearest."

"Not love. He is only a boy, still. I think he sees her as a goal."

"To what end?" Narcissa asked, then laughed lightly. "I knew a boy, once, who thought I was a worthy goal."

"I was in Slytherin. You were from an old and established family. You were a worthy goal."

"I wasn't talking about you. Do you remember Thomas Macmillan?"

"The Hufflepuff? I thought you despised him?"

Narcissa laughed again. "Never. How could I despise someone who always said I was wonderful? And meant it. I came to dislike him when I realized he didn't love me. He should have been in Slytherin the way he kept after me."

"He married well," Lucius noted, "for someone in his position."

"And I'm sure he loves his wife." There was a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

"He is faithful to her. But what does that have to do with the boy?"

"It's obvious to me. He's growing up. And he's smart. He knows where his life is headed if he doesn't do anything. So he aims high. If he falls, he may not fall that far."

"The same as Macmillan, Love" Lucius acknowledged.

"With one difference, Dearest. He came to Kings Cross Station to say goodbye. Do you know why?" Her eyes held laughter.

Lucius looked hard at his wife. She had seen something that he missed. And she wouldn't tell him until he acknowledged it. "What is it?"

"Hermione revealed magic to him. She probably didn't mean to, and she didn't try to lie about it once she realized what she had done. She even warned him. Do you see?"

Lucius gave his best guess. "He thinks she loves him?"

"What other reason could there be, as far as the boy is concerned? The question, Dearest, is what he will do now. You reinforced his belief when you rescued him."

"He's only a muggle."

"Yet you still helped him."

"I helped Hermione. The Granger girl."

"You could have helped her by making sure he returned home safely, without his memories. She would have understood if you explained it to her."

"Hermione would have been disappointed in me."

Narcissa smiled. "And here we are, only four months into the school year. The mudblood girl is now Hermione. We've invited muggles to the Manor. And now we're talking about a muggle boy, without insulting him. Have we changed so much, so quickly?"

Lucius smiled at his wife. "Not so much. It's very Slytherin to be nice to people you dislike if it will make you money."

"Do you dislike Hermione?"

"No," Lucius admitted. "I am merely accepting the change in circumstances. A true Slytherin does not work against what he knows to be true."

"Really?"

"Voldemort is going to return. He is going to be defeated by a halfblood boy who was raised as a muggle. A muggle girl is one of his best mates. The days of the purebloods are ending. It may take time but that is the truth." He smiled at his wife. "The best way we can survive is by everyone seeing us as friends to the Boy-Who-Lived. I am a Malfoy. I will make whatever changes necessary to insure that our family survives. And I will do it with a smile on my face." He smirked. "If Boot's invention works, the changes will also be very profitable."

Narcissa leaned over and kissed her husband. "For a moment, I thought you were grasping at straws."

Lucius returned the kiss. "Grasp enough straws and you can keep afloat in any storm."

Narcissa laughed, then paused. "Does that mean that Draco can like his friends?"

* * *

"Well?" Padme Patil asked Terry Boot as they sat down to the return feast.

"Harry and Draco are only mates. You still have a chance."

"They're not . . ." another Ravenclaw asked.

"You still have a chance, too," Terry told the boy.

"And Granger?"

"She's not dating anyone. The truth is there is no truth to the rumours."

"I want to know about the alien," Cho Chang asked.

Terry looked her in the eye. He had decided to tell the truth. To dispel every rumour. "Hermione said that the Arcateenians originally used their voices as a hunting tool. They would lull their prey before they killed it. They even used it against their enemies when they came to close quarters. At their height, they inhabited twelve planets in ten solar systems."

"You know what I mean," Cho said with a touch of anger. "Why was Malfoy invited? Like that. So that everyone would know he was special."

"Oh, Draco was feeling left out, what with his new brother and all. Harry asked the ambassador to do it." He smiled. "He IS the Boy-Who-Lived."

To Terry's surprise, It worked. No one believed he was telling the truth. And they did not ask him any more questions. No one talked to him at all. Using the time to eat his food, he did pause to listen. And became worried by the bits and pieces of conversations he was hearing. More than one person said, ". . . one of them . . ." Someone said, "his father, you know" He noticed one girl across the bench look at him then turn to the boy next to her and mouth the word, eight. A hand touched his shoulder.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall looked down at the diminutive Charms Professor.

"Filius, why do so many rumours come out of Ravenclaw? Your house are supposed to be the clever ones."

"They're not rumours, Minerva. They're character analyses. I always encourage the first years to try to understand their fellow students."

"In Gryffindor, we call them rumours. And some of them are far fetched."

"And very amusing," Filius noted. "And I should point out that the stories about your Miss Granger first came out of Slytherin."

"She is not adopted. Her parents aren't squibs. And she isn't dating half the boys in my house."

Filius chuckled. "The truth will out soon enough. And Miss Granger will be better thought of as a result. Everyone already acknowledges that she's the smartest student in her year." He paused. "Speaking of rumours. What of Draco Malfoy?"

"And the alien? Merlin only knows. Rumour has it," McGonagall frowned as she uttered those words, "that young Mister Malfoy doesn't even know the reason."

* * *

Neville was smirking. Students at the Ravenclaw table were crowding around Terry Boot. The conversation was about 'The Seven'. He called over to Harry. "I think he told them about you and Draco."

"How do you know?"

"Two girls and one boy looked over in your direction."

"The rumour or the truth," Draco asked.

"He promised to tell the truth," Hermione admonished. "Neville, why are you frowning?"

"They stopped talking to him." He nodded his head toward the Ravenclaw table. "I mean it. They stopped talking to him. I think they're ignoring him."

Parvati almost threw down her fork. As everyone in the group stared at her, she pointed. "Don't you see? He wouldn't tell them what they wanted to hear. And now they're shunning him. SEE. He reached for the potatoes because no one would pass it to him."

"That's cauliflower," Ron clarified.

"And it was close enough for him to reach," John added.

"Well, if they weren't ignoring him, someone would have passed it to him."

"The bowl wasn't that far away," John insisted. "But you are right. They are ignoring him."

Ron smirked. "He lied to them."

"How do you know?" Parvati demanded.

"I did that to my Mum and the same thing happened. I thought I was being clever, too. I told her a bunch of things that were true. Once it was clear she knew I was telling the truth, I gave her a whopping tale about how I didn't do anything wrong." He picked up and ate a chicken wing. "I'm not telling you what Mum did once she decided to stop ignoring me, but Terry doesn't have to worry about that."

"We have to do something," Parvati insisted. "He's one of us." She stopped and thought about what she said. "Is he one of us? I mean, um, whatever us is."

"The Seven," Draco drawled. "Whatever that means."

"Eight," Ron said as he picked up another chicken wing.

"And that means?" Draco asked.

"It means we're friends," Neville said as he stood up.

As Neville walked over to the Ravenclaw table, Parvati picked up her fork. "That's why Neville is part of the group. He's always there."

Draco turned around to watch the scene. John turned around as well.

"Dumbledore seems amused," John commented. "McGonagall is concerned. Flitwick is also amused. The rest are vaguely curious. Hagrid waved when I looked at him. And Snape is watching you."

"Diggory thinks it's funny. In a good way. Ravenclaws are watching Neville. There. He put his hand on Terry's shoulder. Did you see everyone's reaction?"

"What?" Harry asked trying to figure out what Draco saw.

"No one close to him seemed surprised." John pointed out.

"Look. The two on either side of him," Draco smirked.

"Jealousy?" John asked. "Are we that special?"

"I am," Draco admitted. "I am on first names with an alien ambassador."

The Hufflepuff girl in front of him turned around to stare. She then apologized. She shouldn't have listened. She then asked if he was Draco. She said her name was Susan.

Draco smiled. He was thinking of something. Did people become part of their group simply because they talked to them? "Father always says I should never say anything unless I'm prepared for anyone to hear. It isn't your fault for listening."

"Then I'm going to take a chance. Are you really on a first name basis?"

"She doesn't have a last name. I have to be." Draco grinned. The girl grinned back at him. The girl next to her (Megan) and the boy next her (Ernie) had also turned around.

"And what did you talk about? She is from another world." Susan asked.

"Mostly about the last time we met. She was happy to see I hadn't changed."

"You're making that up," Susan insisted. Her laugh said that she knew he was teasing her. "Do you even know why you were invited to the ball?"

"No idea," Draco admitted, "not that anyone believes me."

"I know you had a wonderful time. My aunt was in charge of Security. She said her staff had to rush through changes in the monitoring spells when they were told you had to be given special treatment."

"Special treatment?" Draco asked.

"Desserts," John announced.

"Oh, uh," Draco said. "Harry, move over. Susan, would you like to join us. I have a hundred questions I want to ask."

"And he doesn't want to miss out on dessert," Harry noted.

Megan told Susan to go ahead. They would talk later.

* * *

Severus Snape watched as the meal progressed. As with everyone else, he was curious about the alien ambassador. He had the advantage that he had a close relationship with Lucius Malfoy. Close now that Draco was at school. Close because John was now a Malfoy as far as anyone was concerned.

Lucius and Narcissa told him everything they knew. Draco was, or will, do something wonderful. Draco did not know what this wonderful thing was.

He watched as Neville Longbottom walked over to the Ravenclaw table. At once, he turned to where Argus Filch normally stood. The man was looking up at the teachers table to make sure what he should do. Severus caught his eye and motioned for the man to do nothing. The man scowled and nodded his head.

Severus turned his attention back to Draco. For a moment, he thought about talking to Draco about the wonderful thing. He decided to wait. To explain things now would cause too many questions.

* * *

Hermione was amazed at the change at the table. No sooner had Terry sat down and explained why his Ravenclaw friends were angry at him then John was explaining that they were jealous.

"All I did was talk to you," Terry said, confused. "Why would they be jealous?"

"Because they never thought of it," Parvati said. "Do you know, my first sentence was that I wanted to be part of the group? Then I told everyone all about me." She paused. "If I started by asking questions, I wouldn't be here."

The food and used plates disappeared to be replaced by various desserts. Hermione noticed Harry move over and a girl sat between him and Draco. Susan Bones was introduced to everyone. Draco was smiling as he explained her aunt was in charge of security at the party.

"The Aurors were all in a fug because of my invite."

Hermione noticed the look on Susan's face. Both surprise and pride that she was the center of attention.

"She didn't tell me everything," Susan began, "But . . ."

* * *

Five girls were in their dorm, preparing for bed. Parvati turned around to look at Hermione.

"So, Wonder Girl, who's the boy?"

"Wonder Girl?" Lavender Brown asked.

"That's what he called her."

"Is he cute?"

"He's . . . " Hermione paused. "He's only a friend."

Lavender laughed. "Is that true, Wonder Girl?"

"He's an obnoxious friend."

"He's only trying to impress you."

Hermione laughed. "That is the truth. Only he doesn't know how."

* * *

Draco sat in front of the fireplace staring at the flames. John stood by the fireplace staring at Draco. They were the only ones in the common room.

"Neaza," John said. "She met you before?"

"She will meet me before. She said you'd explain time travel to me by then."

"And why did she invite you to the reception."

"I don't know."

"Draco."

"John, that's the truth. I don't know. She told me it was because I don't know."

* * *

It was an anticlimax. All the rumours stopped. And the reasons were simple. Susan Bones was the first reason. She knew more about the aliens than Draco did. That meant that 'The Seven' weren't perfect. Why talk about people who weren't special? The second reason was Neville. When Terry Boot's friends showed their annoyance, it was the least member of the group who first came to his side. Why tell stories about someone in face of your own petty actions? The Ravenclaws learned this particular lesson very well.

All the rumours did not stop. This was because Percy Weasley was seen kissing Penelope Clearwater behind one of the stairwells.


	14. It Ends With Quidditch

**A/N: It's raining. And I'm listening to a song about rain. That can't be a coincidence. I'm going out to play after I post this.**

* * *

**It Ends With Quidditch**

* * *

_I'm not always aware of what is going on. I should clarify. I'm not always aware of the why of things while they are happening. That explains it but still doesn't clarify._

_John and I were punished by Father on one occasion. We did not learn the reason for three years. Hermione agreed that we should have been punished but there was no reason for Father to yell at her._

* * *

Hermione and Parvati were happy when Susan agreed to join their study group. Her first question was why the study group didn't require books.

"It's more of a practice group," Parvati explained. "John pointed out that the more we use magic, the better we are."

"Really?" Susan asked with amusement.

Hermione laughed. "Parvati asked the same question at our first meeting. Here's how John explained it. You do understand that it's possible to physically lift your own weight?"

"Yes." Susan was uncertain where the conversation was heading.

"Since you understand, can you do it?"

"No. I supposed if I started by . . ." Susan's eyes went wide. "Our magic becomes stronger."

Parvati was smiling at her. "A weak shield by a strong wizard can be better than a strong shield by a weak wizard. And one good advantage over lifting weights. You don't lose the ability if you stop practicing for a while."

"Do the spells matter?" Susan's confusion was gone.

"Well, yes and no. Working any magic strengthens your magic. The harder the magic the better the workout."

That Saturday, they introduced her to Hagrid. The following weekend, they introduced her to Fluffy.

* * *

Marcus Boot was busy for most of the winter. He didn't know if he should blame Lucius Malfoy or praise him. Most of his ideas were obvious. After they were mentioned. Varying the musical tones was one he was already working on. A second had to do with shapes. The third was brilliant. Instead of refiling the portable floo with powder, a simple charm would cause the old floo powder holder to disappear. A new one would be slipped into place.

Marcus asked how Lucius had thought of it. The man admitted it was because of muggles. The Grangers, having heard that the Malfoys loved tea, gave them as a Christmas present an assortment of muggles tea brands. In tea bags.

The test subjects were helpful as well. All of the parents agreed it was useful for keeping in touch with their children. As for the students, Terry informed him that on more than one occasion he was able to be a part of a study group with the Gryffindors. The hard part was having to hold onto the floo. Marcus promised to work on that particular problem.

He was now shipping them the newest flooes. Once the charmed circle was pressed, the floo would remain open until the circle was pressed again. For safety, the floo would shut off if left untouched for a specific length of time. Marcus wondered how many other problems he would find, and if all of them would be minor.

He looked up as his second son called from the front of the shop. There was a special customer. He walked out to see a familiar face.

"Mrs. Malfoy, a pleasure and a surprise."

"I was in the area, shopping, and found some marvelous things for the baby." She paused with a smile. "Do you mind my buying things for my goddaughter?"

Marcus had to laugh as the woman began to pull items out of a bag. Some of them went back in. Blue baby clothes. He looked up in surprise. Narcissa nodded.

"May I say congratulations?"

"For buying baby things?" his son asked.

"For needing to."

"Don't tell Terry," Narcissa warned. "We haven't told the boys, yet."

Marcus gave his promise, then led Narcissa to the stairs to their flat above the store. As she went up, Marcus had to marvel at the woman. In the past, she had always been cold and formal. Now, a month since the party, she was the favorite aunt. He thought he now knew the reason.

* * *

Peggy Boot picked up Narcissa from the crib and placed her in her godmother's arms. This time, the baby smiled. (The last time, she changed the baby while Narcissa Malfoy washed her hands.) She felt an instant attachment when the woman revealed she was pregnant and needed to tell someone who would understand. By the end of the party, she had decided on a new name for her baby. And Narcissa had agreed to be the godmother. She also agreed to ask (tell) Lucius to be the godfather.

As Narcissa gently lay the baby back in her crib, Peggy had a fleeting memory. Six months ago. They had seen the Malfoys in Diagon Alley. She had frowned at the thought that her son would be going to school with their boy. Only last night, the boy laughed as he told her over the floo how Draco and he spent the day playing with the Groundskeeper's dog. She had nothing to be afraid of.

* * *

Gregory Goyle looked to his right as Vincent bumped his shoulder. A nod of his head showed their quarry. If he was the right one.

"Draco?"

"Oh, Hi Vince, Greg." Malfoy was nervous. Which was good. It meant that business would be easier to take care of. Vince was always good at speeding things along.

"What's up?" Vince said casually while frowning. It made Malfoy slightly more nervous. "With your Dad?"

"What do you mean?" Now he was nervous AND confused. Vince was a genius at prying information out of people.

"Nott says your dad invited muggles to a party."

"Hermione's parents? Yeah. It was the only way Hermione could come."

A plausible answer, Greg thought. He was about to add an appropriate comment about her being a mudblood then remembered it was John's party. He'd save the comment for later. This was Vince's show, anyway.

"And he visited Sirius Black?"

"Harry's godfather?" Malfoy was less nervous but still confused. "I guess he would."

"And there's that business with the Boot family," Vince added.

"And that's business." Malfoy may be confused by the questions but he was now becoming angry. It was now Greg's turn.

"Draco, we're hearing things." Greg was proud of the slight nervous sound of his voice. Malfoy was still wary but no longer angry. "Nott said his dad heard . . ."

"What?"

"They're starting to say your dad may be a blood traitor."

Greg knew that Vince was watching Malfoy with the same careful eye that he was. How Malfoy reacted would tell them the truth of what was going on. Assuming the son knew. Inwardly, he smiled. Malfoy was looking at them with his back straight. Deliberately straight.

"Father is engaging in business. If it profits him to talk to people he would not otherwise associate with, he will do so with a smile on his face."

"Just wanted you to know," Vince said, giving Malfoy a friendly tap on the shoulder.

Once they had walked far enough away, Vince turned to Greg and asked his thoughts. Greg said he agreed. Malfoy's father was playing a different game. They should wait and see how things developed. There might be something in it for them. Something profitable. Becoming an Auror involved too much studying. And they were still first years.

* * *

Harry was tired. For the past month, he had three nights of Quidditch practice, one night of astronomy and one night of study group where he mostly practiced his spells. Saturday would be the proof of how much all that time was worth.

First, he needed to have tea with the Potions Professor.

Severus Snape was smiling. That meant that one end of his mouth was curled up ever so slightly. He motioned Harry to a seat by a small table and sat a cup of tea in front of him. Harry waited patiently while the Professor set out the mandatory plate of biscuits (of which Harry would be permitted one). When the Professor sat down with his own cup, Harry was prepared to discuss the Quidditch match. Professor Snape would be in charge.

"It has come to my attention, Harry, that you have not attended your Defense classes at all since your return to school."

"Uh," Harry said, knowing it was a poor start. "He gives me headaches." He paused as the Professor arched his eyebrows but said nothing. "I mean, real headaches. I first feel it in my scar and then it spreads." Another pause. "Ron says it could be the garlic."

"I'll ask Madam Pomfrey to check you for allergies. What have you been doing with your free time?"

Harry was worried. Professor Snape hadn't raised his voice. Everything he said was in a conversational tone. The man could have been asking him if he liked the currants in his biscuit rather than why he was missing class.

"Practicing my spells, Sir."

"Which ones?" A genuine curiosity.

"All of them. Um, all the first year spells, the ones that are in the books." At the urging to continue, Harry related how Draco had the idea of going through each book, one by one, and seeing which spells he couldn't do. The Charms book, the Defense book and Transfiguration. Hermione was the one who suggested he should do it by chapter, alternating books. Harry took it upon himself to write out a list during one of his detentions. All the spells from each class. He'd successfully done every spell at least once. The problem was getting through the entire list.

"Is that the list of spells you asked Professor Flitwick to cast a Confundus on?"

"Yes, Sir. That was John's idea. Best not to get used to casting spells in a particular order. Susan said that Defense isn't like reciting the alphabet." Harry paused. "Do I have to go back to Defense class, Sir? Even when I can pay attention, Professor Quirrell's stutter . . ."

"Defense isn't only spells, Harry. It's also knowledge. I'll give you a list of books to read. Whenever chance provides, we'll spend time to discuss them."

A grateful smile. "Thank you, Sir."

"Thank me after you see the reading list. And before anything else, go to Madam Pomfrey. Explain about the scar and the headaches. You are not to play Quidditch this weekend unless she gives you a clean bill of health."

Harry's face dropped. "But . . ."

"Harry, if the headaches were simply a reaction to the garlic, you will be free from her clutches within the hour. If it is something else, wouldn't you want to know?" Severus Snape gave his deliberately unfriendly smile. "You are now scared enough to do exactly as I told you. Go."

Harry almost ran all of the way to the infirmary. Once there, his mouth dried out and he couldn't utter a word. Madam Pomfrey smiled, conjured a glass of water for him and said she had received Professor Snape's request.

"You must have run all the way, Mister Potter. That's a good sign that there's nothing wrong with you. Sit on that bed. And if I do find anything wrong, you'll be staying in that bed until I find out what it is."

Forty-five minutes later, Harry walked down the corridor toward Gryffindor Tower. He still had plenty of time to get ready for dinner. As luck would have it, he passed Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff Seeker. The fourth year was coming out of McGonagall's office.

"Potter? Ready for the match?"

"As ever," Harry admitted. He paused. "Professor Snape is referee."

"Can't be worse than Madam Hooch. She catches everything." Cedric paused and put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "I know. He was a friend of your mother. You're the teacher's pet in Potions class. And he is an expert at Defense. If we lose, we'll protest any bad calls, but after the last match you played, the only person I'd rather have referee is Dumbledore, himself." He removed his hand and held it for Harry to take. "Here's to a good chase." They shook.

"To a good chase."

As Harry turned to leave, he suddenly stopped and turned back to look. For one moment, Cedric's manner reminded him of someone else. Charlie Weasley. This wasn't going to be an easy match unless luck ruled the game. It was going to be fun.

* * *

"Be careful," John said as Draco picked up something from his brother's night table.

"Sorry, just curious." Draco eyed the round ball the size of a grape. "Let me guess. Pressing this small button does something nasty." He looked hopefully at his brother.

John returned the smile. "I was thinking about that tunnel we found. The one that was caved in. I built a bomb with magic so we could blow up the blockage."

"And if I press this button, it explodes?"

"No, that only arms it. And you have to deliberately press it. Then you have to say the magic word." John was smiling. "Allons-y. It's a word I used to use all the time when I was younger."

"Last week?"

"Croak?" asked Trevor.

John gave them both an annoyed look. Then a quirky expression came over his face. "Five years ago, almost six. In your years."

"My years?"

John snorted. "Five years ago, I was a second year student. I can't say I said it when I was twelve. That wouldn't make sense now that I'm eleven. Not that I was really twelve." He waved his hand to dismiss the matter. "What's important is that I've made a mistake with this. You see, I was holding it when I cast the spell to set the detonator, the word I told you."

"No," Draco said in surprise, almost laughing. "You didn't?"

"I did. The person who presses the button and says the word, has to be holding the bomb." John smiled. "At least, that's what I think. For obvious reasons I haven't tested it."

"I'll talk to Theodore Nott about testing it. He's the source of the rumours about Father being a blood traitor." He put down the grape bomb. "And hurry up. Everyone else has gone to dinner.

"It's this stupid tie. It won't tie properly."

"It's a self tying tie. I've seen it work properly three times already."

"Yes," John complained, "but it's a Windsor Knot. I want a Shelby Knot."

Draco sighed as he turned to leave. "We'll be seeing you for breakfast, then."

"Croak," came the suggestion, once the door closed.

"Wonderful idea. Thanks, Trev."

John cancelled the spell on the tie and tied it by hand.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy apparated into the entry area of the Ministry of Magic. He was here on legitimate business. The filing of papers on behalf of his newest business enterprise. This usually began with a three hour wait behind everyone else who had come on any sort of business. What followed was a series of reviews that the paperwork had been done correctly, that all fees had been payed, that the government employee had their lunch without interruption. The process took a week to ten days. Unless you were Lucius Malfoy.

The process took less than an hour, including the cup of tea. Today could take longer. The man he was seeing had a nephew in Hufflepuff and there was that Quidditch match tomorrow. They would have to have a conversation about that.

One hour, twelve minutes later, Lucius stepped out of the office. All of his business was complete.

A man in the hallway looked at him when he stepped out, then deliberately looked down, shuffling through some papers in his hand.

Lucius frowned and walked toward the elevator. The man followed. Lucius turned around. The man looked at his papers. Lucius took several steps backward, toward the elevator, watching the man shuffle the papers. The man looked up, looked down, looked up, muttered something that was probably indecent, stuffed the papers in a pocket and walked toward Lucius, past him and to the elevator. He pressed the down button.

Lucius started to demand an explanation. Started. He had barely opened his mouth when the man frantically raised his index finger on his right hand and put it to his lips. The international Keep Quiet sign. He then pointed up repeatedly to show he was either having a spasm in his arm or someone was listening.

Lucius also noticed that the man had pressed the down button. Anyone leaving would want to go up.

The door opened. Two people were on the elevator. The man, looking completely normal, stepped in. Lucius, warily, joined him. The elevator doors closed.

On the fourth floor, the elevator stopped. A man, not the mystery man, walked off, hastily. A man waiting in the corridor hesitated, then pointed. He was going up. On the sixth floor, the lady exited. The doors closed. Lucius knew where they would stop next. The ninth floor. The Department of Mysteries.

The elevator stopped. Lucius followed the man down a narrow corridor and through a black door. Into a blue lit circular room. The wall held a dozen doors which spun around once the door they entered had closed. The man led the way through the first door on the right, past an empty reception desk, into a private office.

Closing the door behind Lucius, the man continued to motion for silence. He grabbed a smooth shaped club with a handle built in. He waved it up and down in front of Lucius until the club emitted a red light from its tip. A blinking light. It blinked faster as it neared the left shoulder. The man waved his wand with his other hand and floated a small pin from Lucius' cloak into a metal box. He closed the lid.

"You were tagged, Mister Malfoy."

"Tagged?"

"Full monitoring and coverage. High security. The spells have been cancelled per our sanction."

"Sanction?"

"My apologies, Mister Malfoy. It seems I have the advantage. Hambledon Quince, at your service. I'll show you to your office, then?" He put the metal box with the pin in it inside a pocket of his robes. Patting the pocket, he said, "I'll see that it's returned."

"Oh . . . Yes." This was too confusing. "I have an office?"

"I assume it's yours. If I'm wrong, consider it my mistake. I'm known for them." Quince smiled to show he was serious. "It's what I'm paid to do."

As Lucius was led back to the circular room, he had to ask, "My office. How big is it?" Inside he was thinking, what is it? What was all of this? Why was he in the Department of Mysteries to begin with?

"Never been in, Sir?"

"What?"

"Your office. Never been in. Never invited. Not that there's been anyone there for some time."

"There's no one in there?" Lucius asked, looking at the door now in front of him.

"Not since Canary Wharf, Mister Malfoy."

"Torchwood," Lucius said as he understood. It was bizarre but it fit all the facts.

"You have to touch the door when you recite the password," Quince informed him.

"You know the password?"

"All of us do," the man said with a laugh. "It's almost a running joke in the Department. You can't enter the locked room without the password. And you can't enter it with the password, either." The man smiled as he encouraged Lucius to try.

He put his hand on the door. He said "Torchwood". The door did not move.

"Merlin's Bated Breath," Quince said with laughter. "It doesn't open on its own. You have to push."

"It's my first time," Lucius said with annoyance. Mostly because he did try pushing the door. It didn't take much pressure to know that the door was still locked.

Lucius took a deep breath. He had to think. Facts. Torchwood. Canary Wharf. Jack Harkness asking him which group he belonged to. Conclusion: This was the entrance to Torchwood IV. Lucius sighed. He was here because he dared to whisper that word to Kingsley Shacklebolt. Worst of all, he was taking too much time. He could hear Quince drawing his wand. He tried to move but found himself frozen in place. He could move his head, and perhaps wiggle his fingers. That was all.

"Is there a problem, Mister Malfoy? You are taking longer than expected. If I've made a mistake, you only need to tell me."

"Memories, Mister Quince. I never expected to be here. And now that I am, I am overwhelmed by the path that brought me to this moment."

Brilliant, Lucius thought to himself. The man will tell everyone how eloquent I was before he oblivated me. It would be worse, All I can do is wiggle my thumb, if I could be bothered. Lucius paused in his thoughts. Could it be that simple? If he moved his thumb, just slightly, only four fingers would be touching the door, yet it would still look like his whole hand was on the door. Four fingers touching to enter. He raised his thumb just enough that it was no longer in contact with the door.

"Torchwood."

The release from the holding spell was immediate. Without hesitation, he pushed the door open and stepped forward. The door closed behind him. The room was dark, but there was blue light from behind him. He turned around. It was like looking through a glass door. Quince was standing there, putting his wand away. The man turned around and walked though a door at random. Perhaps to spread the news.

Lucius turned around, pulled out his wand and said "Lumos". The lights came on in the room. The chamber. Whatever the word was for an area that was larger than expected. Business suite was still too small a word. Warehouse would be too large. His first thought was 'this could be profitable'.

One deep breath. A second breath. Lucius tried to decide what he should do. After a minute, he shrugged his shoulders. He was here. He might as well look around.

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy smiled as her husband apparated home. Her smile faded as she noticed his frown. Her first question was if there was a problem at the Ministry. Her second question was what had happened.

"Do you remember how we promised never to keep secrets from each other?"

Narcissa frowned. "What secret have you been keeping?"

"None."

"Something happened?"

"Remember my friend from Cardiff? I told you the question he asked."

She nodded her head, slowly. For some reason, she shuddered when he told her he found it. She asked him what it was like. Lucius frowned.

"Big. The easiest part to describe is the one wall that holds offices, all glass fronts, on three different levels. Perhaps a dozen in all. There may have been more below me. Everything else," Lucius raised his hands in frustration, "storage rooms with who knows what, Work shops with alien machines, and that floating light in the rotunda."

Narcissa had to laugh. "Floating light? Whatever for?"

"I have no idea." Lucius shared her laugh. "Do you see, Love? I've fallen into the greatest good fortune and I have no idea what I'm dealing with."

"You'll figure it out," Narcissa said with encouragement.

"Not without help," Lucius warned. "Help that I can trust."

Lucius started retelling his day from the beginning, When he entered the Ministry. He finished his tale with how he returned to the manor. There was a platform divided in half by a line on the wall. Attached to the wall was a handwritten note, yellowed with age.

_ Apparate to HERE_

_Apparate from HERE _

_It's not Space Ship Magic, People. _

* * *

Kingsley Shacklebolt entered Scrimgeour's office without knocking. The message he received made that unnecessary. He paused as he entered to acknowledge Auror Tonks. He then turned to his superior.

"Sir?"

"The investigation of the muggle boy. End it. Now. As for Lucius Malfoy, he is no longer a subject for discussion."

Kingsley stepped backward in surprise. That was when he noticed the third person in the room. If he remembered correctly, the man's name was Bode. He worked in the Department of Mysteries. With a frown, he turned back to Scrimgeour.

"May I ask why the sudden change in orders? Does it have to do with . . ." Kingsley's words were cut off. Only two hours before, he had reported the failed tap. He was now looking at a small box. In it was the monitoring pin.

"You can ask him," Scrimgeour said in a sour tone. "Maybe he'll tell you more than he told me."

Bode smiled. "The Locked Door has been opened. Lucius Malfoy is no longer your concern."

"And what the Bloody . . . what does that mean?"

"Is he?" Bode asked. "And her, I suppose?"

"They both are. On my authority," Scrimgeour answered.

Bode nodded. "Mister Malfoy, I am told, whispered a word to you. That word defines him."

"Could you be any clearer?"

"It'd help me, too," Tonks added.

Bode laughed. "I apologize. I love being cryptic. And it is expected from me. The situation is simple. We have an agreement of circumstance with Lucius Malfoy in his current position. By WE, I mean the Ministry. No action may be taken against him."

"Why?" Kingsley asked.

"Good luck with the answer," Scrimgeour muttered.

Bode smiled. "Lucius Malfoy told you why. That is all you need to know."

"Don't bother asking," Scrimgeour told Kingsley. "That's all you'll get out of him."

Bode smiled once more and said goodbye. He walked out with the three staring at him.

Scrimgeour had Kingsley close the door behind the man. He then told the two Aurors to shut up and listen. Nothing was to be repeated. Ever.

"You asked about Torchwood, Kingsley. I told you it didn't exist. If anyone asks, you give them the same answer."

"The muggle papers," Tonks dared to say, "They said Lucius Malfoy was part of a top secret group in the government."

"It seems they were right. Except it's our government, not theirs."

Tonks nodded. Scrimgeour smiled. One of those smiles that said you weren't going to enjoy it but he was.

"Auror Tonks, do you know why you are being told any of this? After all, you're still in training status."

"I thought because I was Auror Shacklebolt's partner."

"Partly. It's because of your relationship to your Uncle Lucius." The smile faded. "Sit down, the two of you. We have plenty of paperwork that needs to disappear. And I want you to understand why."

* * *

Harry Potter was ready. When the word was given, he and his fellow teammates walked onto the pitch and mounted their brooms. As Lee Jordan, the announcer, called out the players' names, the team flew around the stands and into their positions. His friends shouted out his name as he flew past the Gryffindor stands. A bright moment was when he flew past where the teachers sat. He looked a fool as he pulled up on his broom and returned Narcissa Malfoy's wave.

"They came to see me play," Harry said to himself. He smiled that they thought so much of him. The thought, 'while others didn't', lingered in the back of his mind. His mind returned to Quidditch when Professor Snape's voice was heard as he tossed the Quaffle to begin the match.

Cedric Diggory was on the opposite side of the pitch. It wasn't planned but they both circled slowly in their search and maintained their positions.

Cedric dived. Harry took half a second and forced his broom downward, to where Cedric would be in five seconds. He watched for the snitch, or Cedric to turn. Cedric pulled up and gave a quick look around, glanced at Harry, gave a shrug and flew back up. Harry decided he was faking. On the other hand, it felt good to fly. He also returned to a position of height, but did it by flying a lap around the edge of the pitch as he rose, keeping his eyes focused for any glint of gold.

Nothing. Harry circled without thinking.

Nothing. For twenty minutes.

"Careful, Harry," Diggory said from in front of him. Harry had come close to him without noticing.

"Sorry, Cedric."

Cedric chuckled. "I know. Too many people watching you. You don't want to look bad in front of them. I remember my first match when my parents . . . ," he paused as though he saw something, ". . . when my parents came to watch the match."

"Did you lose?"

An actual laugh. "Worse. I caught the snitch and immediately flew to my father to give it to him. I would have been less embarrassed if I lost."

Harry shared in the laugh, which ended abruptly. He had seen a flash of gold. From the fact that he was no longer laughing, Cedric had seen it as well. They both dived. Harry knew Cedric wasn't following him because he was almost even, flying in the same direction. Eyes front, Harry watched for the snitch, knowing it should be there.

He caught it with his eye. It turned away and upward. A right angle. Harry guessed where it would be in five second and made for that point. Cedric, apparently, had a different plan. He flew at the snitch.

Harry watched the snitch. At the count of five, it stopped. Harry raced, trying to beat out Cedric. They were both close but he had the edge over the Hufflepuff. Inwardly he was also counting the seconds. He was on two when the Snitch suddenly shot away, directly between the two Seekers. Harry lost sight of it and cast a quick glance at Cedric. Cedric was casting a quick glance at him.

Harry added a mental note. When the Snitch stops, anything can happen.

"These new snitches are amazing," Cedric said casually. "Not as wicked as regulation, though."

Harry swallowed. New snitches? That meant all those helpful tips that Charlie Weasley gave him were now useless. After a quick word of agreement, he flew upward and began his search anew.

An hour had passed since the match began. Cedric dived at one point but pulled up almost immediately. Harry had his chance when he spotted the snitch. He dove, following the snitch as it changed direction. Two seconds later, it doubled back and passed him just out of reach. By the time he turned around, it was gone from sight.

Another twenty minutes passed. He spotted the snitch, close to where Cedric was but behind the Hufflepuff. Harry went into a narrow dive, heading in Cedric's direction. Suddenly, the snitch changed direction, flying past the opposing Seeker and heading straight for Harry. Both boys rushed for it.

The snitch turned toward the Gryffindor hoops. Both turned to follow. Harry's advantage was lost but he still had a slight lead. The snitch turned left and slightly downward. Harry had the edge again and took advantage of it. Pressing his Cleansweep for all it was worth, he chased after the golden ball. It turned again but Harry was too close to lose it. Then it stopped.

Harry's hand smacked against the snitch and knocked it to one side. A quick reverse and he was almost upon it. It began to speed upward but he was able to follow.

Gryffindor won, 220 to 70.

Thinking about what Cedric had said earlier, Harry turned toward the stands where the visitors were sitting. Flying above them, he held his hand down and said, almost as a question, "Mrs. Malfoy."

"It would be my honour," she said as she took the snitch from his hand.

It was a wonderful day.


	15. A Sirius Chapter

**A/N: I am deeply sorry for the long wait. Regretfully, I only have a stupid reason.**

**When I purchased my new computer, I decided to splurge. I have a wireless keyboard and mouse. Not having the wires to deal with is worth it. Until I began having problems with the mouse. It would freeze after every click. It would freeze after I turned the wheel. It would be fine after I left clicked, until the next time.**

**For over three weeks, I struggled to find the solution. I checked the driver apps. I tried to work around it. Finally, I decided to take it apart and see if I could find a loose wire or chip. There was no way to get inside it. The only opening was the panel that held the batteries in place.**

**At this point, I wished I was two people so I could smack myself in the back of the head. I replaced the batteries yesterday.**

* * *

**A Sirius Chapter**

* * *

Sirius Black woke in a good mood. The house was finally cleaned out of all the nasty things that had been there for the ten years the place was unoccupied. The doxies that infested the drapes. The jarvey in the kitchen. His mother's portrait was even removed, thanks to the help from Tonks and Lucius Malfoy. (She now lodged in the back portion of the Black vault at Gringotts.) Lucius Malfoy even agreed to take Kreecher, his mother's house elf.

He smiled as he conjured his morning cup of coffee. It was good to have a chance to relax. As he sat down with the morning's edition of the Daily Prophet, he heard the fireplace flare. It was his favorite cousin.

"Sirius, are you decent?"

"I've been up for an hour," he said as he walked into the dining room.

"Could I talk with you?"

"Come through and I'll even make you some coffee."

"Deal."

The head disappeared from the fireplace. A moment later, a young woman wearing black robes and pink hair stepped out of the flames. Sirius conjured a cup and handed it to her. She smiled and took a sip before saying anything.

"This is good."

"Only the best for my relatives. Why the early morning call?"

"I need a favour. A personal favour." She smiled as Sirius raised an eyebrow. "I want someone followed."

Sirius bellowed a laugh. "Boyfriend cheating on you?"

"Nothing that easy."

Sirius listened as Tonks explained. The suspect was a muggle boy. Thirteen at the most. He knew about magic. He was seen talking to Hermione Granger. And Lucius Malfoy interfered in a standard oblivation.

"Sneak up on him and wipe his memory? Sounds easy enough. Why did Lucius stop you?"

"Don't know why. I only know how. He said the boy was Torchwood."

"Never heard of it."

"Neither did I until last week. Officially, it doesn't exist."

"Wait, Lucius Malfoy is involved with a secret muggle group that includes a kid who's barely a teenager?"

"No. A muggle teenager is involved in a secret Ministry group run by my uncle."

Sirius decided that it wasn't too early to drink and accioed a bottle of fire whiskey, pouring himself a hefty drink. He took a sip. He then stared at Tonks.

"This Torchwood is a Ministry group?"

Tonks smirked. "Right on your first guess."

Sirius grinned. "Let me guess again. Scrimgeour wants to know how the boy is involved."

"Rufus Scrimgeour ordered me and Kingsley to do nothing. About Uncle Lucius or the boy. I spent the weekend destroying any parchment related to either of them." Her smile faded. "Sirius, I have this gut feeling that something is wrong. If I can't do anything, I thought you could. I even have an excuse for you to use if you get caught."

Sirius held his smile. He didn't care about getting caught. He saw himself doing something more than sitting around the house. "Hermione Granger?"

"You are good," Tonks said with pride.

"I was planning on being an Auror, before things happened. I may be rusty at a few things, but I survived Azkaban because of my wits. Now tell me, why is Hermione Granger my excuse?"

"The boy came to Kings Cross to see her before she returned to school. She is a close mate of Harry Potter."

Sirius frowned. "It sounds made up. It won't work like that." He smiled again. "I'm sure I can put something together if I need to. You know, twist it around to make sure it will work. Maybe something along the lines of sizing the competition for my godson. Won't want some muggle stealing his girl."

Tonks laughed. "You're making it sound like you're planning to prank the boy."

Sirius gave her a smug look. "Did anyone tell you of my reputation at school? Everyone will believe me. I can guarantee that."

"Thanks."

"And if I find anything?"

"Invite me to dinner."

"Done."

Tonks gave him all the information she remembered. The boy's name and address. His school. That he lived with his mother. It wasn't much but the investigation had not gone very far when it ended. Sirius promised to get started at once. And he would be inconspicuous, as only a wizard could.

* * *

Hogwarts was the place to start. Sirius needed to be seen talking to his godson. The trick was to make the conversation support any claims he might make later. The first rule of mischief: Prepare your alibi.

Harry immediately grinned when he spotted Sirius and almost ran from the Great Hall's entrance to his side. "It's great to see you," was immediately followed by "why are you here," and a mirthful grin of hope that it was something wonderful.

"Sirius Black," came the sound of a familiar voice. Professor McGonagall was standing in the entranceway, students cautiously walking past her on either side. Harry's grin disappeared as did those of a small group of Gryffindors standing to one side.

"Professor, it's been a long time. I never thanked you for your part in . . ."

"Don't patronize me. Now isn't the time. Has Harry told you he has detention for his latest prank?"

"Harry? I can't believe he would be involved in . . ."

"DON'T patronize me, Sirius Black. I'll have you know that he cast a hex on Millicent Bullstrode from Slytherin, causing her shoelaces to tie themselves together. She tripped and fell when she tried to leave her table after breakfast, Monday morning."

Sirius tried to hold his smile. "Children do things like that. I'll talk to him."

"The type of shoe that Millicent was wearing didn't have laces."

Sirius stopped trying to smile. He knew what was coming and he had never learned to prepare for it.

"It was an excellent example of transfiguration," McGonagall said without humour. "If it had been used for any beneficial reason, it could have been cause for high praise in such a young boy. Instead, it was worth the loss of twenty house points and one week of detentions." She paused, watching Sirius become slightly nervous. "I find it interesting that the last time that particular spell was used was by a sixth year with the exact same name that you have. While I didn't see the spell performed, I wasn't even there when it happened, I searched out Mister Potter at once and checked his wand."

Sirius started to make an excuse.

"Don't even try." McGonagall let her anger show. "I swear, Sirius Black, that the next time he is in trouble because of something you taught him, I will give him TWO weeks of detention and make you come here and serve them with him. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Professor." Sirius deliberately lowered his eyes. It would make him look contrite.

McGonagall made a guttural sound of disgust. "You would probably enjoy it." She walked off, letting everyone know her mood. Sirius waited until she was out of sight as well as out of hearing range.

"She's right. I think it would be funny as hell."

"Sorry," Harry whispered.

"For getting caught? Consider it a learning experience. From what I hear, you can ask the Weasley twins for advice. It's only a week." Sirius noticed the frown. "There's something else?"

"I have to apologize."

"That shouldn't be a problem. The first thing to remember is to turn on the charm. You like her and you were trying to be funny. It turned out to be stupid. Then you ask, sincerely, to make it up to her. What does she look like?"

"This," said a girl standing close by.

Sirius turned to see a tall girl, as tall as Ron Weasley, black hair, a square jaw and a look that said she would enjoy pounding you into the ground if you would only give her an excuse. The you in question, at this moment, was Harry Potter.

"Go ahead, Potter. Turn on your charm."

"Good luck, Harry," Sirius said without conviction and took a step backward. He was joined by the first year Gryffindors and a pair of third year twins.

A step behind Millicent were the first year Slytherin girls along with another half dozen girls from that house. No one in either group was smiling.

"I don't like Draco," Harry blurted out. Sirius sensed panic in the boy's voice, He noticed Millicent's hand, the one not holding her books, was clenched in a fist.

"What in Merlin's name does that mean?"

Sirius smiled, It was a tactic he would never have thought of. Confuse the issue.

"He was raised as a muggle," Draco called out.

"This way," John added, "when he tries to convince you he likes you, you'll believe him."

"You're not helping," Sirius muttered.

John smiled at him.

Parvati started laughing. She stopped when she realized everyone was looking at her. For one second. She started laughing, again. Calming down she stepped forward and stood next to Harry.

"Take a deep breath, Harry, and repeat after me. Understand?"

"Uh, yeah." There was relief in his voice.

Parvati smiled, "Millicent. May I call you Millicent?"

"Yeah," the Slytherin said, slightly confused.

"No, I'm not asking you. Harry, repeat what I said."

"Oh. Millicent." A pause while Parvati nodded at him. "May I call you Millicent?"

"Yeah." This time it was with a smirk.

"I want to apologize to you," Parvati coached.

"I want to apologize to you," Harry repeated.

"For acting like a brain dead idiot."

"For . . . I'm not saying that."

"Yes, you are," Millicent said, showing her fist for encouragement.

"Be brave, Harry," Sirius said as he put his hand on his godson's shoulder. He had figured out what Parvati was doing.

"But . . . it's embarrassing."

"This is only the warmup," Parvati assured him. "Repeat."

"Foractinglike . . ."

"Slowly and clearly," Sirius insisted. His grin had returned. If Parvati's plan worked, the Slytherin girl could even end up liking him. At worst, she would accept Harry's apology. Which is what McGonagall wanted. He patted the boy's shoulder when Harry nodded.

"Millicent, I want to apologize to you for acting like a brain dead idiot. I didn't even do it to be mean or anything. I did it because it I thought it would be fun and you were convenient." Harry paused. "I have no excuse for what I did. It was plain stupid."

Sirius smiled. Millicent had unclenched her fist. He was about to congratulate Harry when the boy said something else. "Is there any way I can make it up to you?"

Sirius froze. Under any other circumstance, the girl would say 'don't do it again' and it would be over. But Millicent was looking at him. One by one, the other Slytherin girls followed her lead. One of the older girls, with a prefect badge, began a whispering conversation with Millicent, casting an occasional glance at Sirius. The glances became darker the longer they talked. The bell tolled, marking the start of class. No one moved. Finally, Millicent turned back to Harry.

"I believe you, Harry. May I call you Harry? And I want to give you a chance to prove it." She gave Sirius an unfriendly smile. "There's a place in Hogsmeade called Miss Padifoot's Tea Room. All the boys take their girlfriends there on Valentine's day." The Slytherin prefect nodded her head. "Our third year. Invite me."

As one, the Slytherin girls walked toward the staircase to the upper floors, and classes.

"That was wicked," George Weasley said.

"Yeah," Fred added, "Two years. And anything can happen."

"And she decides how it's played," George concluded with admiration. "Good luck, Harry."

As the twins walked off, Sirius sighed. The girl was angry because of him and Harry gave her the opportunity to pay him back. The Slytherin prefect gave her a way. On the other hand, there was nothing to do about it for two years.

"That was easy," Harry said, a smile coming to his lips.

"You're not worried?" Hermione asked. "About what she might do?"

Harry shook his head. "No. She either turns me down or I have my first date."

"With Millicent Bullstrode," Parvati warned. "Millicent 'hi, I'm bigger than you and I can hit harder' Bullstrode."

Harry kept his smile. "It doesn't matter. I don't even have to ask her out for a year and a half. Anything can happen."

Sirius smiled. "With your luck, Harry, it probably will."

"A question," John said. "Are we going to be late for class or will we miss it completely?"

"It's Care of Magical Creatures," Neville pointed out.

"Miss," John said.

"Miss," agreed Draco.

"You're going to miss class?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah," Neville answered.

"I don't have any problems," Parvati added.

"I wasn't going, anyway," Harry commented. He paused to look up. "I don't think I was."

"I won't tell," Sirius promised. "I only came to see how you were doing." He tried to think of an excuse. "I heard you might be in trouble."

"No," Harry answered, slightly confused.

"He means your detentions," Hermione clarified.

"Really?" Harry asked.

"I am a responsible adult." Sirius thought their smiles were too large. At least no one snickered. "And so, you're missing class. What are your plans?"

John was looking at Harry. "I was thinking of learning to tie shoelaces."

Draco was looking at Sirius. "It would be a helpful skill," he drawled.

"If that's true, I also know an excellent spell for buttons."

"You finally figured that one out?" Professor Snape's voice said from the top of the staircase. The man glared at the students at the bottom. "Your classes are in other directions, or am I mistaken?" He held up a finger. "Inform your respective teachers that I am the reason for your tardiness."

The first years disappeared out the main doors, the third year twins down the corridor opposite the Great Hall.

"Mister Black," Snape said as he descended the staircase. His scowl was in place. "You do know this is a school and that you are no longer a student? You do know that visiting parents, or guests, need to inform the headmaster before their arrival?"

"Quote your rules all you want, Snivellus. You know what I think of you. I can take you in a duel, any day of the week. All you have are words, and there's nothing you can say that will hurt me."

"Is that true?" Snape was giving him a sympathetic smile. "Then it doesn't matter that Harry likes me better."

"THAT'S A LIE."

"Ask him."

Sirius felt his face burning with anger and shame as his adversary walked away. He knew the man said it deliberately. He knew it wasn't true. He hated that he let the man's words affect him. He left the school swearing that the next round would be his.

* * *

Sirius sat down on his haunches from his hiding place in the bushes. He had a clear view across the level car park at the steps forty feet in front. When you build on a hill, steps seem to happen.

Being a dog animagus was an excellent disguise. He was watching his target from a safe enough distance. A boy, sandy brown hair long enough to cover his ears. Decent enough clothes worn from use, yet fit well enough. That meant regular shopping at the second hand store. Most prominent was the skateboard.

The boy came around the corner of the school almost at the same time he did every afternoon. He lowered himself to pick up speed. Once he reached the steps, he leaped up and managed a feat that surprised Sirius the first time he saw it. The boy landed on the dividing rail and rode it all the way down. He dropped to the ground and kept moving. He would spend twenty to thirty minutes, then head home.

This time was different. At the entrance to the parking lot, a police car pulled up. The boy stopped as two uniformed men with sidearms stepped out, one on each side. Sirius watched as the boy looked around for a place to run. The closest policeman, his hand on his weapon, said one word. "Don't." It was enough to make the boy freeze. The conversation was short and to the point. They only wanted to talk to him. If he didn't do anything wrong he had nothing to worry about. The handcuffs were standard procedure.

The boy was ushered into the back of the police car. No one noticed the dog that stared at them while the car drove away. They didn't notice a man suddenly appear where the dog was. Nor did they notice when he enlarged a racing broom and flew after the boy.

* * *

The only thing Sirius Black could do beside stand around unnoticed was to listen in on the conversation. Most of it consisted of the boy saying he didn't know or he didn't do anything. The officer insisted they had witnesses and wanted to know what he did with the revolver. That was enough.

He liked easy problems and easy solutions. It seemed that the witnesses (unnamed) had chosen the boy as their victim. Enough time for the real thief and murderer to escape. Fortunately, the boy had a witness. He cancelled the listening charm, transfigured his clothes to respectable casual muggle (he hoped) and walked into the building. He approached the counter and waited briefly. He smiled his best smile at the female officer.

"I'm looking for my nephew. I was told he might be here for some reason."

"Name."

"His is Richard Evans. Mine is Sirius Black." He returned the frown. " S."

He shared her smirk and agreed that he's had to do that too many times. The woman, as she checked her computer, asked why he thought the boy would be there.

"I went with him to the schoolyard. With his skateboard." Sirius added in a cheerfully convincing tone, "he loves that skateboard. Anyway, he raced ahead of me but when I reached the school proper, he was not to be seen. Two minutes later, a woman told me she had seen the police take him away. Well, she said it was a boy that looked like him."

The woman was watching him. She excused herself and walked through a door behind her. After a minute, she came back and pointed to a door where a police captain was now standing.

"Mister Black," the man said politely and motioned for him to enter. "My apologies. We had our doubts but we had to make sure." The man sounded completely unconvincing. As though he was reciting from some prepared script. "He was identified too easily and, to be honest, he doesn't seem the type." He opened the door to a dimly lit conference room with a glass window. The boy was in the other room.

"Ritchie looks like he isn't hurt," Sirius commented.

"We can release him in your custody. You can verify you were with him all day?"

"Since school left out," Sirius replied.

The captain nodded and motioned for one of the officers. Shortly, the door opened and the officer stepped into the room. "You're free. Your uncle is here to take you home."

"Uncle?" the boy asked.

Sirius stiffened.

"The one you were with," the officer said slowly, "since you left school today."

"Oh, Uncle Lucius," the boy said with relief and followed the officer from the room.

"Curious," the captain said slowly. "Why doesn't your nephew know your real name?"

The officer walked in with the boy. He closed the door firmly. And locked it.

"Mister Evans," the captain said casually as he stepped away from Sirius. "Please identify this man for me. And tell me how he is related to you."

Sirius looked around. Three officers and the captain were watching him in case he tried anything.

The boy stared at a man he had never seen before. Then he did something strange. He put his hands in his pockets. "Don't know. He never told me."

"Never?" The captain asked.

"He works for Uncle Lucius."

Sirius knew the boy was lying. He knew the boy had a plan. He had no idea what it was.

The captain asked where the boy's uncle worked. The boy said, in an almost casual tone, "Torchwood." Sirius noticed the boy hold eye contact with the captain until he said the word, then turned to him. It was called passing the torch. It was up to him to convince the captain to let them both go without question. Having no idea of what to say without digging a deeper hole, he gave the captain an apologetic smile.

The captain told the officer by the door to leave the boy and to see what he could find on that company. He had man and boy sit across the table from each other as he waited. The officer came back, a half hour later. He had found nothing. A woman had called, however, a missing child report. The name was Evans.

The captain fumed. Then looked at his watch.

"Keep them here. Get them something to eat. I'll talk to the mother." All three were said in the rehearsed manner the captain had clearly perfected.

As the door locked behind them, the boy asked, "What's your name?" He smirked. "Or the one that you're using?"

"Sirius Black." He was frowning. The boy was treating this as a joke. In the back of his mind, a voice was saying, "It's what you would do if (did do when) you were his age."

"Why'd you come after me? How did . . ."

"They're listening." Sirius pointed to one of the officers still in the room, the one with the notebook. He was annoyed. Mostly at himself. He could have said he was a witness, had overheard the police and could vouch for the boy. But that would have caused more questions. He should never have tried to be clever in the first place. It was only a matter of time before wizards appeared on the scene. Three weeks of observation and he bodged it all.

"You're very good on that skateboard," Sirius said as the food was brought in. Sandwiches and crisps. All the water they wanted.

"How would you know?" came the angry/annoyed reply.

Sirius kicked himself. Another stupid comment. Then the boy said something else.

"Oh." It sounded like he understood. Then the boy said, "OH". He was staring at Sirius with wide eyes. "Are you . . ."

"Yes."

"I mean . . . with . . . them? Or Mister . . ." The boy looked at a police officer. And his notebook. "Or Uncle Lucius?"

Sirius almost laughed. He decided on an absurd sounding answer. "Both. They asked me to, and I owe Lucius a favour." A policemen made notes.

He changed the subject to skateboards. The boy's face lit up.

An hour later, the subject was exhausted. The officer in question had clearly noted the names of Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley. The boy spent twenty minutes alone on telling him that Hermione was wonderful. The boy was very good. He never mentioned magic. He only hinted at it once, saying that Hermione told him about her school.

The captain walked in, followed by a beefy young man and a young black-haired woman who was at least seven months pregnant.

"Let's clear this up, right now," the woman said in an angry Welsh accent.

"Your Mum?" Sirius asked.

"I wish," the boy answered.

"She's coming," the captain said. "I sent one of my men to fetch her. Once we learned of her condition."

Sirius eyed the boy. The boy gave a sheepish grin.

"Mum's blind."

Sirius nodded. He couldn't help notice that no one mentioned a father.

"Now that's cleared up," the woman scowled at Sirius. "You're Torchwood?"

"No," Sirius said in surprise.

"Then who . . ."

The woman's voice trailed off. Hers and everyone else's eyes turned to the boy. The boy raised his hand.

"It's me."

"You don't sound like you're from Scotland? Do you live there?"

"Not bloody likely," the boy said.

"Watch your language around my wife," the beefy man said, also with a Welsh accent.

"Rhys, I'll handle this."

"As long as he don't mouth off like that again."

She smirked at him and turned back to the boy. "Do you know anyone from Scotland?"

"Well . . ." the boys face scrunched up as he tried to think. "I know someone in Scotland. She goes to school there."

"School?"

The boy looked uncertain and turned to Sirius. Sirius sighed. Perhaps the truth would help. Not all of the truth, of course.

"Madam, I'm an independent investigator working for friends in the Ministry. I was asked to watch the boy. To find out what his relationship was to . . ." he paused to make a guess, "your group."

The woman nodded. "No more questions here, then. Let's go." She walked up to the policeman with the notebook. "You won't be needing that." She grabbed it and threw it to the beefy man. "And all of you are to forget we've ever been here."

"I can take care of that," Sirius said. "I'll meet you outside in a few minutes."

"Really?" The woman asked.

The boy was grinning. "Yeah, he can."

"I can read them the Official Secrets Act as well as you can." The woman glared at Sirius.

"I don't need to read them anything." Sirius was grinning. Somehow, his world had righted itself again. His grin slipped into one of surprise when the woman made a wand waving motion with her hand. He recovered quickly and nodded. She arched her eyebrows and called the boy to follow her.

Sirius smiled as the woman and her husband left with the boy. He had learned something. Whatever the group was, it involved wizards and muggles. With a smile, he turned to the captain. Three oblivation spells later, Sirius left the room to join the others.

A clerk was telling the woman that she had to sign the piece of paper if she wanted the skateboard returned. The woman was holding a card and telling the clerk that this meant she didn't have to sign anything. The man, Rhys, was grabbing the skateboard while apologizing for his wife's tone of voice. The boy was watching all of this with subdued amusement while a woman holding a white cane stood next to him with a protective hand on his shoulder. Her head was turned slightly so she could hear the conversation in front of her.

As they left, the woman asked about the captain. Sirius assured her that he remembered releasing the boy to his uncle. There was no guarantee the man would take care of the paperwork. The woman commented that the boy had never completed his.

Once outside, the woman led them to a land rover. She made quick introductions, then told the boy to tell everything he could.

"Could?" Sirius asked.

"The proper word is should," the boy's mother said.

"Mum?"

"Don't disappoint me, Richard. Answer their question, then answer mine."

"I was supposed to use that word if I was ever in trouble with . . ." He pointed behind him with his thumb.

"Is that true? Then this is what you do from now on. You don't mention us for any reason. Tell your boss to talk to me if that's a problem. And, I know you're not a wizard, fill out that paperwork and sign the Official Secrets Act. It's still required."

"What forms?"

"Thick envelope?" Mrs. Evans asked. "Embossed seal? I gave it to Richard." Her voice showed disapproval. "Two weeks ago. He said they were things he needed to read for school." Resignation was added to her voice. "Did you even open the letter?"

Rhys laughed. Sirius couldn't blame the man. The boy was almost cringing. The mother had an approving smile as though she could see the boy. Rhys spoke.

"If you don't want your pay. You don't need to sign anything."

Sirius looked at the man. The boy was looking as well. A woman's voice asked, "Pay? For what?"

"Wait," the boy was saying. Fear and excitement filled him. "You mean, I'm really . . . you know . . . and not just saying . . . You know, I mean . . . I thought he was being nice to me."

"You didn't know," the black-haired woman said. "You knew nothing about . . ." She glared at Sirius for some reason. She made the wand movement and nodded at the boy. Sirius shook his head. The boy caught their motions and said, "Mister Ma-um-mm told them not to."

"Lucius Malfoy?"

"I was about to say," Mrs. Evans noted, "that I had a hundred questions to ask. I now have one hundred and one and I am standing on a sidewalk in a part of town I've never been."

"You're right. Everyone into the car. That includes you, Mister Wizard. Rhys, you can drive. We'll talk while we drive you home, Misses, and then some if we have to."

"Good idea," Mrs. Evans said. "We can start with what Richard is being paid to do."

* * *

"Dearest?" Narcissa asked as Lucius handed her a glass of wine. "What did you find out about the extra Galleons in our account?"

Lucius sat next to her on the sofa. Ge sipped from his own glass and smiled. "It has to do with the Department of Mysteries. One of the accountants informed me that it was done automatically for anyone known to be Torchwood. "He sipped from his glass, again. "The man even asked if I wanted anyone else added to the payroll."

Narcissa laughed. "You always manage to make a profit from anything you put your hands on." A coy smile. "Did you add my name?"

"I will if you like. For now I'm still trying to figure out what that place is." He paused. "I did have one unusual thing happen. This morning, after I talked to the accountant, I stopped by . . . my new office."

Lucius told her of an image that appeared. It looked like a silver face mask with handles, sort of. The image was surrounded by a red glow. When he put his hand into the image, the red glow changed on one side to green. He admitted that he hesitated, then moved his hand to one side. The green side. The image disappeared.

"I'm thinking of avoiding that place for a while."

Narcissa kissed him. "I think that's a good idea. You have more important business. The portable flooes."

"Too true, Love. And I plan to make a profit from that as well."

* * *

Sirius Black was laughing as Hermione Granger told him of what her dorm mates thought of Harry's impending date. They had all agreed to coerce enough boys to go with them so they could watch. Harry said they only wanted to embarrass him. Hermione assured him that wasn't all they wanted to do.

It was going to be an enjoyable walk. The end of a wonderful week. He had the honour of hosting his godson for the spring holiday. That meant inviting all of his friends over for the day as well as making one trip to the Weasleys, one trip to the Longbottoms, one trip to the Patils and two trips to the Malfoys. The second trip was made after the official announcement of a brand new wizarding product. All of these trips were made with, and because of, Harry.

His last act was to escort those who wanted to walk from Grimauld Place to Kings Cross. Only Harry, Hermione and Draco accepted his offer. When Sirius asked about John, he was informed that the adopted twin was meeting up with Neville and Trevor.

"And how was your week," Draco asked Hermione, trying to change the subject. "You missed everything."

"Her boyfriend," Harry said with a laugh.

"Ritchie is not my boyfriend," Hermione insisted. "It's that he . . ." She became vague. "Something happened. He wanted to share it with someone."

Sirius tried to look interested. The last thing she, or any of them, needed to know was that he knew all about Hermione's muggle friend.

"He came into some money."

Draco looked amused. "Legally?"

Hermione scowled at him, causing Sirius to bark another laugh.

"Yes, legally. That's the was his Mum phrased it. She said to leave it at that." She looked nervous. "I thought I should respect her wishes."

"She threatened you?" Draco asked.

"No . . . but she sounded proud. And that's what I don't understand. If Ritchie did something to make her mother proud, why wouldn't she want to talk about it? My Mum bragged to everyone whenever I did anything."

Sirius smiled and told her not to worry. He knew the reason. And his own lie was partially responsible. She believed her son had stumbled into a "situation" and kept his wits. The result was a more than successful "operation". The payments were his reward, and guaranteed employment when he was old enough. If he proved himself.

"And his Mum won't brag?" Harry was asking.

"And Ritchie blushed and stammered both times I asked him." She grinned at the thought and at something else. "He's using the money to take extracurricular activities. He asked me to join him."

"And?" Draco encouraged.

"Two nights a week, he's taking classes in mixed martial arts and," Her grin widened, "every Saturday, he's taking lessons in hang gliding." She blushed lightly. "He wanted me to join him for his first two lessons."

Half the trip was taken by Hermione trying to describe the second lesson. The one where the instructor took her with him on a special rig, so she would know exactly what it was like. Draco said he would stay with broom flying. It was less risky. Harry asked why he decided to take those lessons. Hermione blushed instead of answering.

Finally, Harry broached the subject. What did Sirius think of their plan? Sirius smiled to reassure him.

"As a responsible adult, I warning you not to go. Even if Fluffy likes you enough to let you go through that trap door. I would try it, of course, but I would make sure Dumbledore wasn't even in the castle. And I wouldn't wait until midnight or something. You should sneak out before . . . I mean, I would sneak out before curfew, if possible. That way it you (cough) if I were caught, I could use a prepared excuse. And I would still have time to try again at a later time, possibly even the same night. Remember, always prepare your alibi, just in case."

"Hermione," Draco asked, "you're not saying anything. Why we shouldn't do this or why it's wrong or we should be studying."

Hermione snorted. "That wouldn't change anything."

"But when we go . . ."

"When WE go," Hermione prompted. "Parvati challenged me."

Harry was the first to ask after he and Draco had stopped laughing. "How did she challenge you? How could she challenge you and get you to agree?"

"She told me it was dangerous and she couldn't do it without me." Hermione grinned. An almost Weasley grin. "And she said that if there was any serious trouble, we'd have the boys there for backup."

Sirius laughed at the stunned looks on the boy's faces. "Remind me, Hermione to introduce you to an old friend of mine by the name of Remus Lupin."

"Remus Lupin?" A tall man asked. He had long messy brown hair, a bow tie and a broad smile. "Did you say he was a friend of yours?" He looked at his watch and frowned. "That can't be right. You're too young. Well, you not too young, you'd be the right age . . ." His eyes went wide. He pointed. "You're Sirius Black," he said with alarm, "You're an escaped prisoner and you're walking the streets of London. In daylight. And you're not even supposed to have escaped yet. This is wrong."

"Is there a problem, Sir?" a short oddly round shaped man asked. "Shall I destroy them for you?"

"Strax? Destroy them?"

"I still have the hand grenades, Sir," he said in an overly loud whisper.

"NO. We're not going to destroy anyone."

"But you said he was an escaped criminal. That means he's dangerous. And look at his accomplices. Especially that boy with the bushy hair. There's something off about him."

"I'm a girl," Hermione said with anger. She was about to say something else when Sirius but a hand on her shoulder.

"Excuse Strax," the strange man said, "he's still having problems with gender recognition." He turned to Strax, "As for you, Mister Potato Head, he won't escape from prison for two more years." He smiled as he turned back and extended his hand. "If I remember my history correctly, you would be Hermione Granger."

"DOCTOR," a woman called out.

Sirius looked up and began to stare. It may have been a woman but it had the face of a reptile. It was sticking its head out of a nearby alley. Sirius turned to the children in concern. They were staring, as well. Gawking might have been a more accurate term. They had all heard the name that was called. He knew all the legends about the many faced man.

"Doctor. We've found the portal. Jenny is standing guard. We must hurry."

"I'll be right there," the man said without turning around. He turned to the boy on Hermione's left. "And you, black hair, green eyes." He brushed aside the hair on the boy's forehead. "Yes, squiggly scar in the right place." He scowled. "You're supposed to be wearing glasses. Not contact lenses. All the pictures show you wearing glasses."

"Sorry?" Harry asked, not knowing if or why he should apologize.

"Not your fault. I blame the adults. You're still a child." He turned to Draco. "You, on the other hand, are supposed to have red hair. Why don't you have red hair?"

Sirius understood at once. "He thinks you're a Weasley."

"I'm a Malfoy," Draco snarled.

"Doctor," the reptile woman called out. "We must hurry."

"Right, just a second." The man never turned his head away. "You're a Malfoy? That explains the hair."

"Shall I destroy him at once, Sir? It would be no problem and there would be minimal collateral damage."

"STRAX, go wait by the portal. I'm almost done." The man smiled as Strax departed in a huff. He smiled. "Things aren't wrong, are they?" he asked Draco. "You said you were a Malfoy. You should have told me you were Draco Malfoy but you didn't. That means there's been a change." He leaned forward until his nose and Draco's nose were an inch apart. His tone of voice hinted conspiracy. "Who's the other Malfoy?"

Sirius decided to answer as Draco appeared too surprised to speak.

"John. His twin brother."

The man's face lit up as he turned to look at Sirius. "John? As in John Smith?"

"Uh, yeah," Draco said.

The man turned back to him with glee on his face.

"Was John adopted?"

"Yeah?"

"No problem, then," the man said as he stood up and turned to join the reptile lady.

"Was there a problem?" she asked.

"One I'll be taking care of, later," the strange man said as he and his companion disappeared into the alley.

"Those were aliens," Hermione said after a long pause.

"All three of them," Sirius said with authority.

The strange man stuck his head out of the alley. "Madame Vastra is not an alien by the way. She's Silurian. From Earth, oh, fifty million years ago or something like that." He disappeared.

"That was the Doctor?" Draco asked.

"That's what he was called." Sirius looked at the boy. As he urged them to begin walking again, he asked Draco, "You seen confused."

"I don't know," Draco said with a shrug. "He seemed so . . . familiar. As though I've met him before."


	16. Beyond Fluffy

**A/N: Yes, I have been working a lot. On a good note, I can now actually afford to take a vacation.**

**On a side note, which is related, in a way, to this chapter, I saw a wonderful historical poster. On the left was Winston Churchill holding his fingers up in the famous V (for victory). On the right side, Adolph Hitler had his arm outstretched in a Nazi salute. The caption read: Scissors beats Paper.**

**A quick note. The last section of the previous chapter. The characters are from part 2 of Doctor Who, season 7. (The Snowmen, the Crimson Horror.)**

* * *

**Beyond Fluffy**

* * *

Minerva McGonagall sighed as she glanced at the Gryffindor table. Albus Dumbledore asked if there was anything wrong. She voiced her suspicions. Ever since Sirius Black was freed, she had to take points from Harry Potter at least once a week. Of his friends, only Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger had avoided being caught doing anything.

"Perhaps because they weren't doing anything, Minerva."

"On two occasions I distinctly heard a croaking noise. Longbottom has the only pet in school that croaks. On another occasion I saw a blue glow but the light faded before I could find its source. You do remember Hagrid telling how brilliant Miss Granger was and about the blue light spell she invented."

"She is the smartest in her year," Albus pointed out.

"Smart enough not to get caught." Minerva's look hardened. "And their victims. Not only did they deny knowing who pranked them, one went so far as to laugh when I asked." She sighed again. "Since they returned from spring break, nothing."

Albus arched an eyebrow. "Nothing?"

"Not even anything suspicious. I expected something after someone transfigured Potter's robes into a muggle football jersey. I think it said Manchester. Potter was angry but . . . he did nothing."

"Harry is an Arsenal fan, I believe. It's only natural that he would be angry."

"For wearing a shirt that says Manchester?"

"Not exactly. For being forced to where a shirt that did not say Arsenal. They DID make the International League sixteen years in a row and counting." Albus smiled at his assistant's frown. "I always try to keep up on important events in the muggle world."

* * *

Harry Potter sat at a table trying to do his homework. He had no chance of succeeding because of a message that Ron had given him. Albus Dumbledore was called away to the Ministry. The headmaster would be leaving shortly. Ron had promised to let Harry know when.

Soon, he would find out how well he followed in his father's footsteps. By finding out the secret that promised a painful death. He had his doubts. Should he try? Should he try to follow Professor Snape's advice (and McGonagall's demand) that he would be better off pursuing his studies? He had asked John's advice. John assured him that if he didn't try, he would never know if he could succeed. John admitted that he was curious. Not only about the prize. There were traps. Traps probably put in place by the Professors. That was why he wanted to go.

"Curiosity, Harry, can be a dangerous thing. That is why I prefer trainers."

Harry asked Draco's advice. Draco said that since he wasn't part of the group, he was going to Hagrid's for tea. When they were caught, he would be as far away as possible. Harry asked why Draco was sure they would get caught.

"You have John with you. He'll want to get caught just to find out what the punishment will be."

On a lark, Harry even asked Trevor. Trevor answered, "Croak". Harry nodded sagely to make it seem that he understood what the toad was saying. Ron was watching. He was trying to convince Ron that he did understand. He later said that Trevor advised him to follow his own council.

Ron's foot kicked Harry's. He looked up as Fred disappeared around a corner of the stairwell. Ron was smiling. Harry nodded. It was time.

"I'm going to the library before it closes. I need to look up something."

Harry stood up. Ron offered to join him. John said he would come as well. Parvati, at her table nudged Hermione.

"I want to see this. Harry Potter going to the library without being told to." She smirked. "You coming?"

Hermione nodded her head. She admitted that she wanted to follow him to find out where he was going to end up. She offered to wager a Galleon that it was the kitchens. Parvati refused the bet. Lavender Brown turned to Draco and asked if he was going to the library. Draco said that he had eaten enough at supper.

* * *

"Where's Draco?" Harry asked when the gathered outside a particular door on the third floor.

"He's leaving for Hagrid's in a few minutes," John told him. "Neville's going to join him. In case we need a diversion."

"How," Hermione asked, "is he going to know we need a diversion if he's at Hagrid's hut drinking tea." She gave a small "oh" when John showed her his portable floo.

"Ready?" Harry asked, then opened the door. Fluffy was on his feet at once, wagging his tail. Ron went first, as planned, and received a tongue bath from all three heads. The rest joined him and spent the next twenty minutes petting and scratching the dog. Leading him away from the trap door, they sang his favorite lullaby. At the first snore, the trap door was opened.

"Who's first?" John asked.

"It's my plan," Harry pointed out. He looked back. "Ron?"

"I'm fine. I'll keep Fluffy happy and quiet." He patted a head with a soggy hand. "Dad said he thinks a dog would be a great idea. He's trying to talk Mum into it."

Harry nodded. Even he would have to admit it. Ron had become Fluffy's favorite. He took a deep breath and jumped.

"It's soft," he called up.

"Move out of the way," John called as he jumped down.

John scrambled out of the way. Hermione jumped down and also scrambled to one side. Parvati followed. Harry suggested they get started and took a step. At least he tried.

"I can't move. Something's grabbed my leg."

"Here, I'll uhh," John called. "On second thought, I'll stay here since I can't move either."

Hermione drew her wand. "Lumos." Harry and the rest stared. Vines were visibly moving, ensnaring their feet and moving upward. "It's Devil's Snare," Hermione shouted.

"We need light," she and John said at the same time.

"Is there a problem?" Ron called from above. "I heard shouting." Fluffy's heads could be seen above him. The dog could be heard whimpering with worry. A big glob of saliva barely missed Ron's head and fell down the shaft with a splash.

"What's that noise?" Parvati asked.

"It's the vines," Harry said. "They don't like getting wet. My legs are free!"

As the four scrambled to safety Hermione told them all to make note that Devil's Snare does not like bright light or doggy drool.

"Thanks, Fluffy," Harry called up.

"Who's a good doggy?" John added.

Fluffy barked.

Ron grabbed his ears.

"That's Professor Sprout's trap," John said with admiration. "Nicely done."

Harry agreed and opened the door before them. "And this would be?" He led the way into the cavernous room. Three brooms sat against the wall. On the other side was a locked door.

"I'm tempted to say Madame Hooch," John commented as he looked up.

"McGonagall," Hermione said with authority. "There are hundreds of flying keys. That's definitely transfiguration."

"Which one is it?" Harry asked.

"Look at the lock."

Parvati volunteered. "It's big. And old."

John was smiling. Harry had grabbed a broom and asked if she was going to join them. Parvati was already mounting the third broom. John asked Hermione to excuse them. They would be back shortly.

* * *

"You're not saying anything," Draco said as he led the way out of the castle. "Such as 'it's getting late'."

"I don't care," Neville said. The sun was setting but the moon was rising early. There was plenty of light. "Draco, do I seem different to you?"

"Different from what?"

"It's Gran. She kept saying over the holiday that she was proud of me. Of the friends I made. Of my good grades. Of . . . anything. She says I'm different."

"You don't say 'um' any more. Does that count?"

"I guess. But I don't feel different."

"Maybe it's your Gran," Draco offered. "You told us how she always hovered over you. Maybe she's surprised you did anything without her. I don't know."

They both stopped. Draco tried to explain what he meant.

"It's like when I first boarded the train. I had all these expectations of what I would find. The only one that wasn't crushed was the Trolley lady serving the last car of students twice. Nothing else came close. Merlin's pipe and hat, how could I expect John? Or having you as a friend. Or Hermione. I didn't even like her."

Neville was surprised. "You didn't like Hermione."

Draco snorted. "Of course not. She's a Mudblood." He paused, then added in a lower voice, "well, she was a mudblood."

It was a wide-eyed boy who asked, "Then, all those stories, about the Malfoys . . ."

"Were true. I think. I don't know all the stories. But the pureblood ones were true. I was supposed to sneer at people like Hermione."

"Then why did you hug her? At the sorting?"

Draco looked down. "I was afraid. I was supposed to be a hero. I was afraid of what everyone would think." He looked up. "I'm a coward, Neville."

"That must be why we're friends. You know, birds of a feather and all."

"Birds of a feather?"

"I'm a coward, Draco. I learned how to deal with it. I learned it from you, from John, from Harry, even Ron. Maybe you learned the same thing."

"Croak," Trevor said, his head sticking out of Neville's pocket.

Draco sniffed, then smiled. "I guess. If both of you tell me the same thing."

* * *

"Chessboard," John was saying. "Flitwick."

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked. "Or are you only saying that because it required expert Charms skill and sharp thinking?"

"I like that all the chess pieces are wearing uniforms."

"And swords," John pointed out. He turned to Hermione, smirking at her. "The question is this. Which one of us plays?"

"I do," Parvati said and turned to the white chess pieces. "All right, Kingie, move it. I'm taking you place."

The White King moved from the board. Parvati motioned for all of them to choose their pieces. They all chose the Kings side. Parvati smiled at Harry, her bishop, then John, her knight. She gave Hermione a wide grin.

She turned to the board and called her first move. Pawn to Queen Three.

"What does that do?" Harry asked.

"Nothing," Parvati said proudly.

John said, surprised, "That's the rat opening. Clever girl."

"Clever?" Hermione asked.

The Black Queen's knight's pawn moved forward two spaces.

"Black always plays defense. That's why it's the stronger position. The rat opening seizes the defense for white."

"Ready for action?" Parvati asked. She began shouting as she turned and gestured to all the pieces. "LISTEN UP, EVERYONE. PLAYTIME IS OVER. YOU SEE THAT KING OVER THERE? WELL, WE'RE GOING TO KICK HIS ARSE. AND WHY? BECAUSE WE'RE THE WHITE PIECES AND WE HAVE ME CALLING THE SHOTS. LET'S GET OUT THERE AND LET'S SEE ACTION."

Hermione admired the way Parvati went on about valour and glory to a bunch of chess pieces. She even found herself cheering when Parvati demanded to know if everyone was with her.

"Pawn to Queen Four."

As the Black Pawn attacked, Parvati began calling out encouragement to the white pawn. Harry joined in at once. John followed shortly. Hermione could only watch as a fierce duel was fought in the middle of the chessboard. It ended up with Parvati shouting, "that's the way to do it".

"What happened?" Hermione asked John.

"The white piece won." He smirked again. "This is wizards' chess, you know."

Hermione grinned as she understood. One piece did not simply take the other. They fought each other. The stronger the commander, the better the pieces played. Skill helped, but if your pieces won the battles then it didn't matter. She knew they would win. This victory would encourage the next. And so on. Even she was jumping up and down when one of the pawns successfully defeated an attacking bishop. It may have been dangerous being on the board, but it was fun.

* * *

Draco knocked on the door of Hagrid's hut. Hagrid opened it with surprise. And suspicion. He let the two boys in when Draco said they were trying not to be scared.

"Cowards?" Hagrid asked with a laugh. "The only cowardly thing about either of ye is yer shadows. Ye know what a coward is. A man who won't face up to what he is. The instant ye know yer a coward, ye ain't one no more."

Draco nodded his head in confusion and, when Hagrid's head was turned, fed his biscuit to Fang.

* * *

It wasn't very long before they stood in front of the next door. Harry smiled as he opened it, then stepped back. A troll framed the doorway and looked at them.

"Professor Kettleburn?" John asked as he backed away. "He does teach care of Magical Creatures."

"Who cares?" Hermione answered. It was as she said those words, she had a brilliant idea. It would work but only if trolls were as stupid as she read they were. As the troll stepped through the doorway, Hermione turned to face the chessboard. She gave a theatrical scream (school play level) and pointed.

"EEEK. CHESS PIECES."

She glanced at the troll who was looking at her. She pointed with her hand. The troll looked at the chess pieces, raised its club and growled. Hermione began backing away from the chessboard far enough to one side of the troll to be out of range of its club. She kept screaming and pointing.

Parvati figured it out and began doing the same thing on the other side of the troll. John and Harry decided to join in as well. All four were screaming in fright and backing away, or pressing against the wall if they had backed up all they could. The troll looked at them, at the chess pieces and growled. Then he took a step forward, growling again and hitting his club on the stone floor. He took another step and repeated the process. As he took his third step, Hermione rushed behind the troll for the open door. Harry and John were right behind her.

Parvati had been the first one through. She slammed the door closed behind them. "I'm guessing it's charmed so the troll can't smash his way out. I don't know about smashing his way in."

Parvati ran after everyone else through the door on the other side of the small room.

"Potions," John said as flames shot up in front of the doors at either end of the room. "Definitely Snape."

"And a logic problem," Hermione chortled. She stopped herself. She had chortled. She never chortled. It must be bad influences. One minute later, she pointed to the smallest bottle.

"That one has the potion that lets you pass through the doorway in front of us." She pointed to another bottle. "This one has the potion to let us go back."

John picked up the small bottle, opened it, poured a single drop into his palm. He closed the bottle, handed it to Harry and licked his palm. "Not good," he said with concern.

"In what way?" Harry asked,

"Outside of tasting terrible, there's only enough for two. One of us has to stay behind."

"There's four of us." Parvati pointed out.

"I'm not going to use the potion. I tasted it so I know what effect it's supposed to have. I'm going to convince my body to imitate it."

"Will that work?"

John grinned. "I have no idea."

"Who stays?" Harry asked, holding the bottle possessively.

"It was your idea," Hermione said. "You're going regardless. It's between me and Parvati."

"I did play the bloody best game of wizards chess in my life," Parvati pointed out.

"I figured out the potions problem."

"I was the one who spotted the flying key."

"And I deliberately screamed in front of a troll."

"That was funny. But remember, Wonder Girl, I talked you into coming."

"And I'm not backing down. I want to go as badly as you." Hermione's face became grim. "I'm challenging you to a duel."

"One shot. Winner takes all," Parvati retorted.

Both girls thrust out their wand arms.

Hermione smirked.

"Paper covers rock."

* * *

Ron was resting, leaning against one of the paws. He was almost asleep when he heard the door open. He was on his feet at once, ready to make any excuse he could think of to Mister Filch. Fluffy, now behind him was beginning to rouse. Ron sighed in relief that it was only Professor Quirrell.

"Sorry, Professor. I was only playing with the dog. Hagrid said that Fluffy needs his exercise."

"Not a problem," the Professor said. "Ronald Weasley, isn't it?"

"Yes, Sir."

Fluffy began to growl.

"He doesn't like strangers," Ron told the man.

"But music calms him, I've heard." Quirrell smiled. "Why don't you sing something? You do sing to, um, Fluffy."

For a second, Ron was reminded of Neville. Then he realized something. "Professor? Your stutter?"

Fluffy was moving forward, slowly so as to not hurt Ron by accident.

"I only stutter when I'm teaching a class of obnoxious little wizards." He drew his wand. "Now. Why don't you sing something?"

"But, Sir . . ."

"IMPERIO."

Ron suddenly felt warm and fuzzy. All he wanted to do was sing. Sing to make Fluffy happy. He began with Fluffy's favorite song. So engrossed was he in his singing he didn't see the DADA Professor lower himself through the trap door. Nor did he pay any attention to the loud grunt the man made when he landed on, instead of a soft plant, a solid stone floor covered only with a slick layer of dog drool.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore arrived at the Ministry as requested. Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic saw him into his office at once. He offered the headmaster some tea, then asked the reason for the visit.

"I was summoned," Albus said with mild confusion. "Your message said it was urgent."

It was the Minister's turn to be surprised. "I sent no message."

Albus frowned. He thoughts turned quickly to the correct answer. Someone wanted him away from the castle. There was only one reason. The third floor corridor.

"I fear, Cornelius, that I must hurry back to Hogwarts. I have my suspicions of why I was falsely summoned here."

"Not You-Know-Who, Albus?" The Minister gave an amused laugh. "Do you still think he survived?"

"I do, but I don't think this is Voldemort's work. He still has followers. And I have set a trap to uncover them. I think the trap has been sprung."

The Minister's smile faded. "After all this time? They wouldn't dare."

"After a long wait is the perfect time. The public has a short memory. Who would suspect them?"

A knock, and the door opened. "Minister, I have a messenger here, for Professor Dumbledore."

Both men looked at the clerk. The Minister, in an annoyed tone, asked, "And who is this man?"

"I've never seen him before. And he's hardly a man. He says he's from Torchwood."

The Minister's face went pale. "Torchwood? As in . . ." He pointed downward. Albus knew what the man meant. The Department of Mysteries.

The clerk nodded. Behind him, a young voiced said, "Yeah, As in. Now move it, mate. Time's running short."

The messenger walked in. Albus did his best to memorize every facet of young man in front of him. Reddish brown hair barely covering his ears that couldn't decide if it should be curly or straight. Dark green eyes on a thin face. An aquiline nose. A quick smile. He stood at five foot, eight, and couldn't be older than seventeen. Albus placed him as a sixth year student, except this was no student at Hogwarts.

His clothing was muggle. Jeans. A worn leather jacket covering a pullover with the logo of, probably a music group, Sonic Youth. Black fingerless gloves. Black work boots. The only anomaly was the slight bulge under one sleeve which indicated a wand holder.

"Professor Dumbledore," a short pause and a smirk, "Sir."

"Do I know you?"

"The name's Evans, Sir. You told me to show you respect or you'd hex me into next week. Sir." Another smirk. " And, no. You haven't met me. Yet. Although this does explain the weird looks you gave me when we did."

"I will meet you?"

"Yeah, in a few months, but that's not important." He reached into a pocket and pulled out a portable floo. "You're about to get a call."

"I've seen those," the Minister noted. "Some of the young people have them."

Albus looked at the small device. "This looks different than the one Lucius Malfoy showed me."

"It's one of the auto-refill models that came out a couple of years ago." Evans said. The device began to glow. "Press the circle."

Albus did so.

"Who is this?"

"_Albus?_"

"Lucius?"

"_There isn't much time._" Evans snorted. "_Richard, mind your manners. Albus, you'll be getting a floo in a minute or so that the wards have been breached. This is important. Ignore them. Get to the third floor as quickly as possible. That is the greater danger._"

"Ignore the wards? Are we talking about . . ."

"_You know who we're talking about. He's there._" A pause. "_I need you to trust me in this._"

"I will," Albus said, making an instant decision.

The glow faded from the device.

"Do you need help, Albus?" The Minister offered. As strange as the events of the last two minutes were, he knew the matter was serious.

"I will risk saying yes, if you could spare a few Aurors. Things appear more complicated than I expected."

Evans politely coughed. "Professor, I need the spell phone back." He took the device when it was proffered. "And give Wonder Girl my best. I'll see myself out. My ride's waiting."

As the boy left, both men looked at each other. The Minister admitted "that was one strange boy. Where did he come from?"

"I think the question is when. He had a two year old 'spell phone' and they've only been available since March. THAT is the reason I trust him."

At that moment, the Minister's private fireplace flared. Both men knew the reason.

* * *

"Remember," Hagrid was telling the boys, "ye both were helpin' me with . . . somethin'."

Draco and Neville nodded their heads then turned to begin their walk back to the school. Neither of them expected anyone to believe they didn't know what they were helping Hagrid with. Neither believed that anyone would question them on it. With Hagrid, it was sometimes better to remain ignorant. Both remembered when the 12 foot baby Dragon burst out of Hagrid's hut, a month ago.

"Do you think Dumbledore believed he was really nursing it back to health?" Neville asked.

"I think Dumbledore believes he would." Draco said. He paused. "Did you hear something?"

"No," Neville answered. "Wait." His voice dropped. "Footsteps?"

Draco knew what he meant. Footsteps shouldn't be that loud, though they did have a metallic ring to them. " Armour," Draco whispered.

Slowly, both boys walked toward the sound, somewhere in the direction of the Whomping Willow, a sadistic tree that someone planted in a now isolated part of the grounds. A sudden flash of light revealed a half dozen silver figures marching in formation. The flash was the result of one of the figures using some kind of weapon to destroy the Whomping Willow.

Draco knew it was serious and drew his wand at once. "IMPEDIMENTA." As the ropes flew from his wand, he thought a better plan would be to run for help. He heard the ropes hit one of the figures. There was a flash. Burning ropes could be seen falling to the ground.

"Draco? " Neville whispered in fear. His wand was in his hand and his hand was shaking. His other hand was pointing. Three of the figures had turned and were moving toward them. They could be seen easily by their glowing eyes.

* * *

"AHH," John shouted. "THAT HURT. Note to self: Do not jump through magic flames just because you can."

Hermione had to laugh. He sounded so serious when he said that. She turned to Harry who knew her question. He pointed down the steps to the mirror in the center of the level area. That was their final destination. Both boys raced to the mirror. Hermione grinned again. If she thought she would get there first, she would have run as well. Instead, she would insist there was no need to hurry.

"What did you see?" She asked as she saw both boys gazing into the mirror. Her eyes caught on an inscription written into the frame above the mirror. "What is that?"

"First guess," John said, "would be that it's a foreign language. A better guess is that it's English, only written backwards. This, Hermione, is the famed Mirror of Erised. Instead of your reflection, it shows your deepest desire." He paused. "Except for now."

"Take a look," Harry offered.

Hermione stepped in front of the mirror. She saw her reflection. She did not see Harry's or John's even though they were standing on either side of her. And she was holding a stone in her hand.

"What is it? The stone, I mean."

"Don't know," Harry said. "All I see is me holding it. Do you see the same thing?"

"For some reason," John said, "I'm licking it. Why would I do that?"

"How do we find out?" Hermione asked.

"We get it," John answered. "The proper question is how do we get it."

"Break the mirror?"

"Too easy. I'm guessing this is Dumbledore's doing. He likes to be clever. How would I get something if I was clever?"

"Some sort of incantation?" Hermione suggested, "like a verbal cipher lock."

John agreed it was a good idea. He also had an idea on how to test it. Harry interrupted.

"Wait. I don't think we should?"

Hermione frowned. After she had been goaded into coming this far, somebody besides her (and beside her) was trying to be the voice of reason. Logic said she should agree, but there was a problem to solve. She was going to side with John and figure out how to retrieve the stone, and find out what it was, only because she had the chance to.

"Oh course we shouldn't, Harry," she answered. "But we already decided to do it anyway."

"Harry decided," John pointed out. "We only agreed to go along with it."

Harry was blushing. "It's not that. It's . . . I figured it out. This is a trap. Whoever gets in is supposed to get this far. Or do you honestly think those traps and stuff were there to stop anyone."

Hermione nodded as she felt her heart race. "Harry's right. Those traps are only to slow us down. To give the teachers time to get . . . us."

"Or worse," Harry said, "to get whoever they set this trap for. Right now, the only reason I would want that stone would be to keep it away from whoever is coming for it."

"What I want to know," John said, "is why I wasn't the one to figure all of this out. And . . . Harry? Why do you have that strange look on your face?"

Hermione watched as Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out the stone.

"Bloody brilliant," John was saying. "To get it you have to NOT want it."

Hermione glanced in the mirror, out of curiosity. She did not see herself holding the stone. Instead she was at a dias, in a large, huge, auditorium.

"HERMIONE."

She blinked and turned to look at Harry. "Sorry. I was looking at my deepest desire."

Harry smirked. The stone returned to his pocket. "What was it?"

"Thousands of people were standing around me telling me I was the best at everything."

After he stopped laughing, Harry turned to look. His face became rapt but sadness quickly filled it. He put a hand on his shoulder, then turned away.

"It was my family. My Mum and Dad. My grandparents. Others kept walking into view. Mum smiled and squeezed my shoulder."

Hermione already had Harry in a hug. She was telling him he had family. And friends. As Harry hugged her back, she noticed John look in the mirror. He only nodded his head, as though he saw what he expected.

"Sorry," Harry said as he wiped an eye. He tried to smile. "I guess it's time to go?"

A scream was heard. Parvati.

"Harry," John was saying as he drew his wand. "You were right. Someone is coming for the stone."

Hermione and Harry both drew their wands and followed John as they ran up the steps to the doorway. Sounds of fighting could be heard. Her heart was racing. Thoughts raced through her head. What if Parvati was hurt. Or dead. What if there were more than one opponent. Her last thought was that she would find out if all that extra training helped. She jumped through the flames.

* * *

Parvati fumed. She had only herself to blame. She was never any good at rock paper scissors. She should have called even odds. The question was what to do while she waited. She pulled out her portable floo.

"Dragon."

No answer. No surprise either. Too many times, Draco would deliberately leave his portable floo behind. He'd claim he didn't want to be bothered talking to a flame when he could be talking to someone he could see. And there was no use calling Neville. His grandmother told him he couldn't have 'one of those childish devices'.

"Ron."

No answer. Parvati frowned. Why wouldn't Ron answer? These things were waterproof. They had to be drool proof as well. Unless Ron dropped it and Fluffy stepped on it. Or he dropped it down the trap door. Which he should have closed. Or. Something happened.

"Susan Bones."

"_Parvati?_" Susan's voice said.

"_Hi, Parvati,_" Terry Boot's voice was heard.

"I think I have a problem."

"_Think?_" Susan asked. "_Where did you get trapped?_"

"Trapped?"

"_When the alarms went off. Terry came with me to Hufflepuff because it was closest._"

Parvati panicked. Alarms? She had to ask.

"_Parvati, what's going on? Something set off the wards on the school grounds. Where . . . Are . . . You._"

"I'm safe, but I can't leave. I tried to call Ron. Ron's supposed to be playing with Fluffy. He doesn't answer. And . . . Oh Merlin's Beard . . . Draco's at Hagrid's. He doesn't know about the alarms."

"_We're on it,_" Susan said with authority, a tone she probably learned from her aunt. "_I'll check on Fluffy. Terry will warn Draco._"

"_Me?_"

"_If the coast is clear. If it isn't, get back here or to Ravenclaw. Whichever is closest._"

"_Done,_" a cheerful voice said.

"_We'll call once we know something,_" Susan promised.

Parvati smiled as the call ended. If only the teachers had portable flooes. She would have called Professor McGonagall first off. She raised her hand to call Hermione when a figure stepped through the far flames. She returned the floo to her pocket and smiled.

"Professor Quirrell, I'm so happy to see you."

The professor was frowning. He looked at her. He turned to the counter. He picked up the small empty bottle. He put the bottle down. He grunted and rubbed his left arm which was hanging loose at his side.

"Who went through there?"

"Harry, John and Hermione. There wasn't enough for me."

"Or me," Quirrell hissed. "I suppose we'll have to wait. And hope they're successful."

"Be done with her," a muffled voice said.

"Professor."

"Nothing to worry about, Miss Patil. My colleague was telling me that you will be a nuisance." He drew his wand.

"INCARCEROUS," a voice called out from behind the table that held the bottles. Quirrell turned and cast a shielding spell at the last moment. He cast a curse in turn, which was deflected. Parvati grabbed her wand and cast her own shielding spell. The last thing she wanted was to be hit by a stray spell. No sooner was her shield raised than it was struck by a ricocheting spell.

The fight continued fiercely for a few minutes. Suddenly, Quirrell spun and fell as his opponent managed to connect with a spell. Parvati looked up to see Lucius Malfoy standing there, wand at the ready.

"Keep your shield up, Miss Patil. He won't stay down long and I have to leave. Don't worry. Help is almost here."

"Yes, Sir," Parvati said, happy at her close escape. If she could, she would buy a poster of him so everyone could see her new hero. She heard noises. Voices and footsteps. Help was coming.

* * *

"Draco? Neville?"

Draco turned around to see Terry Boot. Boot was looking past him at the glowing eyes. Turning back, he heard a monotone voice say, "Leave them. Our goal is in the edifice."

"What are they?" Terry asked.

"Don't know," Draco answered.

One of the burning ropes flared and flames began to rise. Draco knew what happened. It had landed on the fallen tree. The tree was now beginning to burn.

"That shouldn't happen," Neville was saying. "The wood would be too fresh. Unless whatever they did dried out the Whomping Willow?"

"That flash?" Terry asked.

"And they were coming for us."

The tree was now burning brightly, as though it was all dry tinder.

"They're heading for the school," Neville said. "We have to stop them. We have to warn everyone. We have to . . . Draco, your portable floo?"

"I have mine," Terry offered, then paused. "None of the teachers do." He smiled. "I'll call my father."

Draco also smiled. He pulled a round ball out of his pocket. "I forgot. I have this."

He explained quickly. It was a magic bomb. You press the button and say the magic word. It explodes. He frowned when he added that you have to be holding it when you say the magic word.

"That's . . . stupid."

"John was trying to fix it but . . . "Draco patted Neville's shoulder. "Give John my best."

"NO."

"You saw the tree, Neville. My spell didn't even stop them. We can't let them get into the school." Pleading was in his voice. "You know what will happen."

"Let me do it."

"You're an only child. I have a brother."

"I have six brothers and sisters," Terry offered. "And I'm Ravenclaw, I'm smart enough to stay alive until I'm close enough." He reached for Draco's hand. Draco pulled his arm back.

"Bloody hell. I dropped it."

All three boys froze. Then they began to search the ground frantically. After a minute, Neville stopped.

"Where's Trevor?"

"I don't . . . NO! He was there when John explained his bomb to me."

The boys stood up and turned to look at the metal men, now no more than fifty yards from the school.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore flooed through to his office where the heads of house were waiting for him, as requested. The remaining teachers were guarding the school should anyone try to enter. He gave directions at once. Professor Sprout was asked to wait for the Aurors and send most of them onto the grounds. She was to take two or three of them and follow to the third floor corridor. The others were to follow him.

As they entered the room which housed Fluffy, Albus ignored Ron Weasley except to ask Filius to take care of him. He cast a spell and the trap door opened, revealing a spiral staircase. They raced through the galleries, briefly pausing as they passed an unconscious troll surrounded by a dozen or more broken chess pieces.

They stepped into the potions chamber as they heard a scream. Albus saw Parvati Patil's shield fail from the curse hurled at it. His own spell disarmed the Defense Professor.

"Don't move, Quirinus," Albus said, evenly. "Although I do think your teaching days are over."

"You don't understand, Albus," the man said in a shaking voice. "I had to. I had no choice."

Quirrell grunted in pain and grabbed his turban. He bent over, as though to collapse, then suddenly lunged at the girl, He grabbed her wand then shoved her aside. Still moving, he turned and began casting curse after curse at the teachers.

Albus recovered first, casting another disarming spell once he dispelled the curses coming at him. To his surprise, Quirrell blocked it. Quirrell then pointed the wand at Parvati. That caused all of them to pause.

"I'm stronger than you think, Albus," the man laughed. His eyes were those of a mad man. "And I'm quicker. I will kill the girl should any of you cast another spell."

Albus frowned. The man was indeed stronger than he had anticipated. And the question was of what to do.

"Albus," Minerva said softly, concern in her voice. Not for the girl, however. The door of flame behind Quirrell has flickered. No one had any time to react when three Gryffindor students entered the room, wands drawn. John and Harry, as one, called out curses, their wands almost poking the mad man in the back. Quirrell was thrown over the girl, landing on his stomach in the middle of the room. Hermione Granger was already on the floor, seeing to her friend while the boys high fived.

None of the teachers moved. Quirrell's turban had fallen off and rolled away. On the back of his head was another face. One that Albus recognized.

"Voldemort."

"This isn't over," the face snarled. It faded as a dark mist rose from the body. It launched itself at Harry Potter, tossing the boy into the wall. Its final act of violence complete, it faded away.

"Albus?" Professor Snape's' voice seemed anxious.

"No, I don't think he's gone. But he is in no position to hurt anyone for a while." He saw that Minerva was already seeing to Parvati Patil. "Severus, I think you should see to Harry."

"Gladly," the man said as he put his wand away.

Albus nodded. Two children hurt where four would have died. Lucius Malfoy's warning was timely, to say the least.

* * *

_Well, it was a good life. It could have been longer but those tads were too young. I couldn't let them risk it. Hmmm, I'd better hop faster. They're getting too close to the school. Anyway, Neville's been too sure of himself, lately. His hands are hardly ever clammy anymore. And I know John and Draco will understand. I should have told them to tell Harry he was good at guessing. He always claimed he knew what I said, then he would say what I did tell him._

_Let me see? Yes, it's still in my stomach. And the button's pressed in. Oh good, I'm there. In the middle of the group. Now, what was that word again? Oh, yeah._

"CROAK."


	17. The Aftermath

**A/N: all the usual excuses on what took so long. On the other hand, I now have enough money to take a real vacation. I'm thinking of celebrating the New Year in the Florida Keys, if it's not already too late to make reservations.**

**To everyone who has commented, I apologize. I haven't even bothered to read any of my e-mails (except the bills due notices) since I posted the last chapter.**

**I promise to do better in the future.**

**Q: How much does a pirate pay for corn?**

**A: A buck an ear**

* * *

**The Aftermath**

* * *

_I have only seen John cry on one occasion. It was shortly after Trevor's passing. He blamed himself for what happened. I told him it was his bomb but I was the one who had it. The blame should have been mine. I reminded him that Trevor was my friend as well. I hugged my brother as he began to cry._

_It was only later that I understood. John wasn't crying for Trevor. He was crying for me._

* * *

Oliver Wood pinched his nose as the Weasley twins gave him the news. Potter was in the infirmary. He had a severe concussion. He would not be playing.

"I thought he was in the castle."

"He was," Fred agreed.

"The third floor corridor," George clarified.

"Ron's in the infirmary as well."

"We won't know the full story until after Mum yells at him."

"Good thing he wasn't outside."

"You heard about those metal men?"

"Draco was hit in the chest with a head."

"Neville was hit in the head with a chest."

"And that boy, Terry, from Ravenclaw. Well . . ."

"Let's just say he was booted."

The twins smiled.

Oliver frowned. "We should be happy no one died."

"Only Trevor," George said, trying to look sad.

"He sacrificed himself so the others would live," Fred added in an appropriately mournful tone.

"He truly symbolized the spirit of Gryffindor." George had succeeded in his sad look.

"Which one was Trevor?"

"He's the one you wouldn't let try out for the team," Fred admonished

"The frog?"

"He was a toad," George corrected.

"Whatever. Who's available to play Seeker?"

"Is that all you care about?"

"If we win, we win the cup. That means the answer is yes. If John can play, ask him. Otherwise, ask the Patil girl."

"Parvati's in the infirmary."

"A teacher kicked her in the head,"

Oliver nodded "Is John in the infirmary?"

Fred smiled. "He's in Dumbledore's office."

"With Hermione Granger," George noted.

"For attacking a teacher."

"She's very good with words."

"She's sure to keep them from being expelled."

Oliver looked at them in disgust, convinced they were feeding him a pack of lies. He decided to go to someone in authority.

"I'm sorry, Oliver," Professor McGonagall told him, "John will not be expelled for what he did but he will be punished. And one of those punishments will include being barred from all extracurricular activities. Not that he'll have any time with all the detentions he'll have."

"But he's not been punished yet?" Oliver asked, hopefully. "We have the Quidditch match in two hours and we don't have a Seeker. Double his punishment or something if we lose but please . . . PLEASE . . . let him play." He gave her a frantic smile. "Better yet. Make him play. Make it part of his punishment."

"Are we that desperate?" McGonagall asked in an amused tone.

"We need to win. Thanks to Hufflepuff's debacle last month, if we lose, Ravenclaw take the cup. If we beat Hufflepuff, we take the cup on points scored."

McGonagall nodded slowly. A mischievous look came across her face. "And you said we should make him play as part of his punishment?"

Oliver smiled in relief. He would have his Seeker. And, based on the look his head of house was giving him, that Seeker would be highly motivated.

* * *

"What?"

The way John Malfoy (nee Smith) said that one word made Minerva proud of her idea. Enjoying the stunned look on the face of her student, she repeated herself.

"Because of your influence, Gryffindor is without a Seeker. Therefore, you are to take Harry Potter's place on the team. To inspire you to try your best, if Gryffindor loses, your brother will share in all your punishments." She smiled. "You have one hour before the match begins. Oliver is waiting outside to escort you to the pitch."

John stood there in surprise until she waved her hand at him and said , "shoo". As he left the headmaster's office, she heard Albus chuckle.

"I will have to tell Filius of your punishment scheme. At times, I think you should have been in Ravenclaw." He walked over to her. "After the long night we had, I thought it would be a long time before I could laugh again. Thank you, Minerva." He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "More than enough reason to be happy, don't you think. You should join me at the pitch. I need to go anyway, to make the announcement that everyone will recover."

Minerva returned his smile. "I understand it will be an exciting match." She turned to the remaining person in the room.

"Miss Granger, you will be attending the match. You will be cheering your team with great enthusiasm. Should they lose, you will inform Draco Malfoy of his punishments."

As the girl fled, Albus chuckled again.

"Perhaps you should have been in Slytherin."

* * *

Lucius Malfoy frowned as he entered the infirmary while Narcissa ran at once to Draco's side. He turned to look at the two adults already there. Severus was sitting next to Harry Potter's bed. Madam Pomfrey paused in her rounds and told him at once that Draco would recover. All of them would.

"And John?"

Pomfrey paused before answering. "He's with the headmaster."

Lucius only nodded. John would probably recover as well. The detentions wouldn't extend past the end of the school year. His frown deepened.

"I am curious. Why is there a silencing charm around Master Boot? And why is there a pensieve on a table at the foot of his bed."

"Terry lets out a shout on occasion. When he feels a particularly sharp pain." Madam Pomfrey gave a wry smile. "Every bone in his right leg, including his hip bone, were shattered beyond repair. We had to remove them and grow new ones. It is a painful process." She added in a positive note, "He'll be fine by dinner. He may even be out of here by then."

Lucius walked over to the pensieve at her suggestion. Terry had permitted the memory of the events to be taken. He had the fortune, or misfortune of being the only one not to lose consciousness before help came.

_It was dark. The boy had left the castle and was running, it seemed to Lucius, toward Hagrid's hut. He saw the boy turn as lightning appeared on the ground and lit up the scene. The Whomping Willow glowed in a bright light and crashed to the ground. Closer than the boy expected, two other boys were standing. As he ran toward them, one pulled out his wand and cast a hex. Lucius recognized the voice that called the spell. It was Draco. As the boys began talking, the remains of the fallen tree caught fire. Lucius had his first view of the adversaries._

"Mister Malfoy?" Madam Pomfrey asked with concern when the man suddenly bolted upright.

"Those metal men . . ."

"Your son, John, told us they were called Cybermen."

"I've seen them before."

"Severus told me that they were last seen at Canary Wharf." Madam Pomfrey shuddered at a memory. She added in a low voice. "So many people. So many."

Lucius understood. He had heard about the battle that took place. The woman wasn't referring to the battle but to the aftermath. When the Healers came to help the victims.

* * *

Narcissa knelt down by Draco's bed and put her hand at once to his cheek. No fever or any other obvious signs. His sleep wasn't natural but that would be because he was still healing. She lifted the blanket enough to look at his bare chest. The outline of a monstrous face was still visible. Soon, it would be gone as well, along with all the other injuries.

She held a hand to her stomach. "Your brother is fine, little one. I'll stop worrying you, now."

She leaned over and kissed Draco's cheek, whispering her love. By force of habit, she began brushing his hair with her hand to make it less messy. A shadow passed her and she looked up. It was Augusta Longbottom.

"I remember," the old woman said with a wane smile, "doing the same thing when my Frank was sick." She looked at the next bed, where Neville lay. "They tell me he'll recover. Stupid boy never did learn when to duck."

Narcissa couldn't help herself. She smiled. "Mine decided to catch his."

The old woman nodded her head. That, in itself, was a victory for Narcissa. After all, her sister, Bella, was the reason the old woman no longer had her Frank.

* * *

Severus watched from across the aisle as the family came in. The Malfoys were first. It was a matter of honour and pride that they should be there to console their children before anyone else arrived. Augusta Longbottom was the next to arrive. She would stay long enough to be deemed proper. Noise came from the hallway. Someone named Marc was told to keep quiet.

Margaret Boot entered with two children in tow. The boy, obviously the Marc who was told to be quiet, was having a whispered conversation with the Weasley twins. The girl, Severus remembered her as Dorothy from the Holiday party, was more interested in her surroundings. In the true spirit of children, neither cared about their brother since he wasn't in danger nor in trouble. Until their mother stopped ten feet from the bed. Suddenly, older brother Terry was the most important thing in their world.

Severus watched as the boy ran forward. Terry turned and smiled. He then grimaced and probably made a noise, because Marc took a step backward. The mother and daughter approached the bed, carefully.

The Weasley twins talked to the Malfoys briefly, then crossed over to the side of the infirmary where the inside injured were. A few words to their brother whose throat was still swollen. A one-sided conversation. They stopped, briefly, to ask that Harry be told. John would be taking his place.

The Patil family appeared, father, mother, daughter. The girl, Parvati, was awake. She was healthy enough to leave but Madam Pomfrey was making her wait until dinner. And the family wasn't there for sympathy. The father said she was foolish. The mother said she was lucky. The sister said they didn't have much time before the match began.

Last of all was Sirius Black. He looked embarrassed. Severus looked up at the man. All the loathing he felt was still there. Reinforced by the fact that a boy was in the bed next to him. A boy he had come to care about. Lily's son.

"He'll live," Severus said in an even tone when Sirius came close.

"How did . . ." Sirius didn't continue the question. The man wasn't a complete idiot. He understood the sharp look he was given. For once, the man didn't ignore it.

Severus knew this was information he had to share. For Harry's sake. He carefully moved his hand to the boy's forehead, pushing aside the hair to reveal the jagged scar. He looked up to make sure the man understood.

Sirius nodded his head and suggested they talk later.

* * *

"Are you sure?" Narcissa asked as they walked to the Quidditch pitch.

"The metal men were the same as the image I saw. I think it was a warning." He added hatefully, "and I ignored it."

"You need to take control of the situation, Dearest." She knew she was echoing his own thoughts. "You need help."

"And who can I trust to help?"

They walked in silence. She looked ahead and saw the Patil daughter talking avidly to her parents. The way her hands moved made it obvious the subject was the upcoming match. That gave her the inspiration. There was someone he could ask.

"You know, you can always trust family."

Lucius laughed. "And what family could I trust? Everyone I know is bound to their old ties. They're already suspicious of my actions. The only ones I could put my faith in are the ones that . . . no . . . one . . . trusts."

"We call them blood traitors," Narcissa reminded him. "Or have we reached the point where they call us the blood traitors?"

They smiled. There was someone he could talk to. And he now knew it. He took her hand in his.

"I need to visit the Ministry in the morning," he told her.

Their conversation turned to other things. How soon Draco would be up and around. How did they manage to convince the headmaster to let John take Harry's place. How badly would John be punished. How much would Draco be rewarded. Names for the baby. Narcissa suggested Scorpius. Lucius said he liked Romulus.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore welcomed the Malfoys to the teachers box, asking Lucius to join him. The conversation was as expected. He admitted that he was not sure of the proper punishment, although something had to be done. He had already decided that, in view of the injuries suffered, they would suffer only the loss of house points. He chuckled as he said that the punishments of the two uninjured students would depend on the outcome of the day's match.

Narcissa Malfoy laughed when she heard what Professor McGonagall had done. She commented that the woman knew how to motivate her students. Even Lucius managed a grin.

"There is one matter I do wish to discuss. About the attack outside the school."

"That is up to you," Lucius said.

"Not about any rewards. Terry Boot tried to figure out who to call for help with his portable floo. He decided, before the matter became moot, to call his father." Albus made sure that Lucius understood that this was a business conversation. "For the upcoming school year, I will be requiring all teachers and staff to carry one of these devices. We can't change what happened but we can make sure that Terry's problem will not occur a second time."

Lucius promised to set the matter before Marcus. He then asked a question of his own.

"I am curious. Will Draco be receiving any reward for his actions?"

"He was out after hours. And he did save the school. I was thinking a letter of commendation. I wouldn't know how to give house points in such a situation."

He watched Lucius nod his head. Such a reward would sit well with the man. But he could tell there was something else. "You have another question?"

"The Daily Prophet, and the other papers. Have they confronted you, yet?"

Albus chuckled. "The Minister is having all 'inquiries for information' directed to his office. We'll be safe for a few days. My biggest problem is with the parents. They want answers and assurances now, while the rumours are still rampant."

Narcissa leaned forward. "Headmaster, Lucius is going to the Ministry on Monday. I'm sure he can give the reporters some 'healthy' information."

Albus smiled as Lucius frowned before nodding his head.

* * *

Severus Snape looked up as the man stood in the doorway of his office. The man was staring back at him. Sirius Black wiped his cheek before he spoke.

"It's all my fault. I told him he shouldn't do it. I should've meant it. I'm always so clever and convinced I can't do anything wrong." He hit the doorframe with his fist. "STUPID." A hand over his eyes while he flexed the fingers of his now injured hand. "I never think. About other people." He went to hit the doorframe again but stopped himself. He walked in and sat down.

"Tea?" Severus asked in a monotone.

"Firewhiskey" Sirius sighed when he received a shake of the head. "Tea is fine."

Severus poured a cup. Watching the man seated across the table. He tried to think of something clever to say. He decided to say something that was obvious. "Harry will recover. He should be fine in the morning."

"He should be fine NOW." A fist was raised.

"DON'T hit the table," Severus admonished. "Attack the walls all you care to. They can take it."

"Harry hates me," Sirius said in a depressed voice. "He will, once he wakes up."

"What did you do now?" Severus was genuinely curious. The man had a knack for being a prat. What could he have possibly done at this point to make his godson despise him? In the back of his mind wad the question of whether or not he could get Sirius to do it again.

"What do you mean by 'now'?"

"To make Harry hate you."

"He ended up in the infirmary because of me. He was almost killed. What else do I need to do?"

Severus stared at the man. Sirius meant what he said. He believed the boy would hate the man who encouraged him to become a merry prankster.

"You were right," Severus said evenly. "You never think about anyone else." He muttered, barely loud enough, "I'm surprised you can even think at all."

Sirius glared at the Potions professor. "What do you mean by that?"

"You said you can think. Try it?" He waved a hand in disgust. "Don't bother. I was saying verbosely . . . by using a lot of words . . . that you are a fool." He picked up his cup. "But you already know that."

"I know you, Sniv . . ." Sirius began angrily. He stopped. Severus looked up in surprise. It looked like the man really was thinking about something.

"Are you over your self pity?" Severus asked.

A sheepish grin faced him. "Yeah. It must be important, this talk. You didn't tell me I was right for berating myself." A hand was held up. "Let's stop the comments. Why am I here?"

"Voldemort was possessing the DADA professor. When Quirrell was injured and defeated, Voldemort, in the form of a wraith, took whatever life was left in the man as he left the body. I was there to see this. He then tried to forcibly possess Harry. He was rebuffed by an intervening force. Harry was thrown into the wall and injured as a result."

Silence reigned for several minutes. Finally, Sirius had to ask. "Who intervened?"

"I believe it was Lily."

"Lily's dead."

"She was already dead when she saved Harry's life the first time. I believe her protections are still at work."

"But Harry was thrown back?"

"Have you ever played snooker?"

Sirius was nodding his head. He understood. It was simple physics. The man then made an intelligent comment. "He must have used a lot of power for Harry to be thrown back so hard."

"Which means he is now very weak."

"Which gives us time."

Severus nodded. "The question is this. Can you put aside your feelings in case we need to work together?"

"I can. But can you?" The old grin was returning to the man.

"For Harry's sake, I already have. I even offered you tea."

"You know something?" The suspicion was there.

"I was a spy. I was close to his inner circle. I know the man. Harry thwarted him. He'll want revenge. He'll want to make an example of Harry."

* * *

Hermione Granger watched John the entire time. If she wasn't watching him she was looking for the snitch. After 80 minutes of play, John suddenly whirled through the sky above the pitch and began to dive. He pulled up, after nearly hitting three of his teammates, a Hufflepuff chaser and Cedric Diggory, the opposing seeker. He was also holding the snitch. He looked at Hermione and they both began to laugh, almost hysterical with relief.

As they laughed , Hermione had an idea. She nodded her head to one side, and John understood. In an imitation of Harry's first win as Seeker, he flew over to the teachers box and presented Professor McGonagall with the snitch.

As John flew off to the teachers box, Hermione heard Lavender Brown, behind her, say to someone, "they fancy each other, you know."

* * *

Lucius Malfoy smiled at Rita Skeeter as though he was pleased that she was the one who asked him that question. Inwardly, he was thinking of who he could talk to about replacing Cornelius Fudge as Minister. The man was supposed to take the information and give the press interview himself.

"This isn't going to be a brief answer, Rita. I'm not here to give quotes but to explain the facts as far as we know them. To start, these were aliens known as Cybermen."

"As in Canary Wharf?" a man asked with a Canadian accent. Lucius kept his smile from becoming larger as Rita frowned at the interruption.

"The very same. And now bear with me as I give you some background information." He took a deep breath and held his smile.

"The Cybermen originally appeared as ghosts until they were successful in crossing over from their place of origin. Those 'ghosts' that came in contact with Hogwarts' defensive wards were absorbed. The wards did not repel them, nor did they let them pass through. (Yes, all major wards were affected, including the ones around the Ministry of Magic. And, yes, we can safely get rid of them now that we know they're there.)

"No one knows, at this point, what caused the Cybermen to be released from the wards but, considering how long they've been there, the Ministry, and myself, do not expect any more incidents. The Minister has assured me that preparations are being made on the off chance something happens before the matter is put to rest."

"And you believe the Minister?" Rita asked in a snide tone.

"I believe the Ministry, Miss Skeeter. Not only the Minister and his aides but also the everyday workers, including the one from the Department of Mysteries who spent two hours carefully explaining to me, in detail, what I have told you."

"In detail?" A French correspondent asked.

"Analysis of magical scans. Research of similar events including efforts and results." Lucius did increase the size of his smile. "And he even offered me access to the thousands of research papers, thesis, pensieve reviews, globe archives and . . . To answer the previous question: Yes. I do trust the Minister."

Lucius smiled as he began to answer other questions, beginning with who to contact about the technical data and no, you shouldn't need to bring your own pensieve.

* * *

Tonks was curious to say the least. Having grown up as an embarrassment to one of the oldest families of purebloods, she was now walking down a muggle street with the scion of the oldest family in Britain.

"You want me to quit and come to work for you? I'm not a business girl, uh, person."

Lucius wasn't smiling. "It's not exactly a business. I stumbled onto something. I can't ignore it. I tried that and Draco almost died. He's out of danger but he's still in the infirmary."

"You don't mean . . ." Tonks asked. She saw his face. That was what he was talking about. His face had a pained expression. That was what convinced her to agree when he said his next sentence.

"I need help."

* * *

Hambledon Quince was in his office when Lucius Malfoy arrived with his niece.

"Will she be taking over the bookkeeping? She can add herself to the payroll."

"Bookkeeping?" Auror Tonks asked. Her tone darkened. "I'm not going to be anybody's secretary."

"I wasn't thinking about a secretary," Lucius Malfoy.

"We're talking accountancy, Madam," Hambledon said, with a bit of offense of his own. "It's more than being a secretary. It's management. And not only money. Expenses are only a small part of it, depending on the size of the department. Purchases, requisitions, inventory," Hambledon was smiling at a memory, "and confronting the auditors to tut-tut the confidential expenditures"

"I'm sorry," the lady answered as her hair turned from pink to black. Her smile returned, however.

"Sir," Hambledon asked with a hint of desperate hope, "Do you need someone? I would be willing . . . I mean to say . . . I am capable . . . That is . . ." His hope faded as he found himself tongue tied.

The girl was laughing. Her hair was pink, again. She was saying, "You need someone. And he's willing."

Lucius Malfoy was looking at him. Assessing. Then he slowly nodded his head.

Hambledon felt his heart skip a beat. In all his years he had always seen those people from afar. Always envious of them. Always curious. Their's were always the biggest secrets. And now he was a part of it.

He was led to the foyer with its twelve doors. He was told the secret to enter the door. He entered and was told to pick an office. Then he was told what the main task was.

Hambledon Quince stared. He was now part of Torchwood. And no one, including himself, knew what Torchwood did.


	18. The Aftermath (cont)

**A/N: Just a quick note. This was supposed to be part of the previous chapter but I didn't have the time to edit it all and I wanted to post something. I'm worried about how many mistakes I've left in despite spell checking and proofreading the thing. As it is, I think I makes a decent separate chapter on its own.**

**I have corrected a few errors in previous chapters. Ron is now singing under the Imperius curse.**

* * *

**The Aftermath (cont.)**

* * *

Tonks stared at the bright light that hung in the air beneath the cupola. She realized it didn't glow. She discovered this by turning off the lights. Everything went dark. The bright ball of light could be seen if she looked directly at it. The thing that confused her was how something that was lit did not cast any light. Even the room above the light remained in darkness. She made a note in her journal.

"Lumos".

The lights came on. Hambledon thanked her for letting him get back to HIS work which obviously wasn't as important as knowing how far one could see in the dark. He took out the most recent ledger and began to work backwards. He wasn't auditing the accounts, per se. He was trying to determine the standard expenses. Knowing how the cash flow was distributed could tell a great deal about what type of work was done.

Hambledon Quince frowned. Almost all entries were for food. For the last six months leading up to the Battle of Canary Wharf, it appeared that the half dozen employees were almost living in the Torchwood offices. He heard a noise and turned to see Lucius Malfoy standing in the doorway.

"Nothing much, so far, Sir. Plenty of food bills and payroll. I did find," Hambledon paused as he flipped to a particular page, "this curious entry. It was three months before the ledger stops. It was labeled, 'muggle purchase'." He flipped to the previous page. "There was another identical entry over a month earlier."

Lucius nodded his head. One more mystery to solve. And it was only their first full day. He thanked Hambledon and admitted he was grateful to have the man. He walked over to where Tonks was waving her wand in front of a locked door.

"It won't open."

"I know," Tonks said through clenched teeth. "I'm trying to figure out why." She let out a gasp as she backed away. Her hands went to her knees as she took a few deep breaths. She looked up at Lucius. "Bloody door. All the spell will tell me is there's no spell on the door."

Lucius nodded his head. "I'll keep looking for the keys."

Tonks scowled at the man as he walked away. Lucius knew as well as she did that the door had no lock. It merely wouldn't open.

* * *

Harry Potter looked out the window at the rain. It had reduced to a light drizzle. Even though he had classes in the morning, he couldn't sleep. As midnight approached, John walked into the dorm room, fresh from his detention. Two more nights and his two weeks of punishment were over.

"Up again," John asked softly.

"Couldn't sleep, again?"

"I'd sleep for you if I could. I'm tired enough."

"John. I was . . . It's stupid, never mind."

"Try me anyway," John offered.

Harry paused. "It's Trevor. No one did anything. Dumbledore didn't even mention him when he told the school what happened."

"Dumbledore's a git," John's voice said from a nearby bed.

Harry turned to see John standing just behind him.

"Draco? You're awake."

"It's called insomnia. If you stay in bed, at least your body gets some rest. Getting up makes you even more tired."

"He's right," John pointed out. "Group meeting on Saturday? We'll think of something."

Harry nodded his head. At least they would talk about it. Trevor was a friend.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore listened as the man from the Department of Mysteries explained the situation about the GTC's. The longest part was explaining that the acronym was for the Ghosts of Trans-dimensional Cybermen. When the ghosts hit the shielding wards of a certain strength, they were absorbed into the wards, sort of like water into a sponge. The problem was that they needed to squeeze the water out of the sponge one drop at a time. There had already been one 'accident' at the Ministry although it was contained without injury to anyone.

"The Minister's orders are that no action will be taken to repair the school wards until the summer holiday. No students means less problems in case we have an 'accident' here."

Albus nodded his head. It was only four weeks until the end of term. There was a good chance nothing would happen. The last occurrence was a fluke. Still, there would be Aurors on the grounds at all times.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy looked up in surprise as the man seated himself across the table, setting down a sandwich and a glass of water. The surprise was that the man was there at all.

"However did you manage entry into the Ministry for Magic, much less their cafeteria."

"Checked my wand in at the door and asked where you were." Jack Harkness gave a smug look. "No one said the wand had to work."

Lucius casually cast a silencing spell. "And why the need to visit here? I thought you were off world."

"I was. I remembered about a certain student we discussed. I decided to pay him a visit."

Harkness wasn't smiling. Lucius wasn't sure but he risked a guess.

"You caused the disturbance? At Hogwarts."

"And released the Cybermen." He held his hand up to stop Lucius from commenting. "I pulled back when I realized what was happening. And I could have stopped them myself but three kids were in the way. You know the rest." He paused. "I did take care of the ones outside the wards, with the help of those centaurs. I don't ever want to be in the cross-hairs of one of those guys."

"And what is the possibility of this happening again?"

"The use of a matter transfer tube through a magical ward? Nil. Now that I know not to do it." The grin was back. "Now, for why I'm here." He took a bite of his sandwich.

"Wh . . . at?"

"I was given a small task, which I successfully completed. Albus Dumbledore had his personal spell phone with him while he was at the Ministry."

"Let me guess," Lucius drawled. "I gave you that task. Or I will. Whyever for, I don't know."

"It was Draco. Was for me. Will be for you. At least, I think it was Draco. John usually gives me that sneering look that says: I'm not really sneering at you because I'm too polite. Or it could be John pretending to be Draco simply to throw me off track."

"How far in the future are you from."

"52nd century. Oh, from this. About three years. Don't know about Draco, though."

Lucius nodded. Time travel was like that. He was tempted to explain that some unknown time in the future he would be saving a girl's life one month ago. He paused as he understood. While he was there, he could use his portable floo. He paused as he remembered what the man called it. A spell phone. It could be a good name to use. Easier to say and easy to remember.

He looked up. He had a problem that this man might be able to help with. Harkness, by being here, made it clear he knew of Lucius' newest occupation

"I'll remember, Mister Harkness. I'm sure the information will prove useful." He looked down at his half-eaten sandwich and decided he was no longer hungry. "You are forgiven, by the way, for the Cybermen. I do have a question for you, though. About something I found . . . downstairs."

"Let me guess. You think it's alien tech."

Lucius nodded his head. "I don't think it's dangerous, though. I have a large floating ball of light that doesn't shine. What is it?" He gave a brief description of the setting.

"Sounds like a Tythonian memory core. How big is it? "

"Eight feet in diameter. Maybe more."

Jack Harkness let out a low whistle.. "I'm impressed. That's probably more powerful than all of the terrestrial computers combined."

"And . . . what is this computer?" Jack Harkness stared at him in disbelief. Lucius held up his hand. "I know what a computer is. I made it a point to learn that much. What can this computer do?"

"Seriously, Lucius. I don't know. Something as powerful as that? I don't have the time to even list the possibilities."

"Then that could be the source of . . ."

Lucius explained about the image of the Cybermen that appeared. He frowned when Harkness confirmed that it was a warning.

"And how do I get it to respond?"

Harkness laughed. "Talk to it."

"As in, 'hello, is anyone there'?"

"That would work."

"It didn't."

"Talk to whoever is in charge. Maybe there's a lock on it."

"But . . . I'm in charge." Lucius frowned. "Perhaps I should tell the computer?"

Harkness laughed again. "That would be an great idea." He paused as he stood up. "I need to go. And, Lucius, if that doesn't work then you're on your own."

Lucius nodded his head. A passing thought as the man left. Perhaps Marcus Boot could do something with the computer idea. Make something wizards could use.

* * *

Classes were over. The last finals were taken. Seven students sat around outside, partly hidden by the bushes. The evening meal was an hour gone.

They could be easily found. All one had to do was walk down the staircase from the main doors, turn right once you reach the bottom and walk along the low wall until you reached the bushes that lined the last section of the wall. Two weeks earlier, the last of their spring flowers blew away in a strong wind. The seven were gathered by the end of the wall which sat three feet off the ground for the last foot instead of thirty inches like the rest of the wall.

"Here?" Neville was asking. "Hardly anyone will see it."

He frowned and admitted his friends were right. A memorial to a toad would never survive in a public place. Not one filled with wizarding children.

"We'll cast spells on it," Hermione said. "I've read that if you cast a spell while transfiguring something, it makes the spell and the transfiguration stronger."

"What spells?" Neville dared to ask.

"I was thinking my blue flame spell, to make it glow at night. I know that path is dark. Any extra light would be appreciated."

Parvati grinned at what Hermione said. "I've an idea. I've been learning a spell. It acts to make things work better in certain conditions. If the spells are stronger when mixed, maybe it'll make the light brighter when there's trouble. Ron told me about it."

Ron nodded. "Dad used it once to make a shield in case he was attacked, you know, by surprise. He wasn't, so I don't know if it worked."

"What are you going to try, Ron?" Parvati asked.

"Well, I thought, since you said what you were going to do, I looked up a sound spell. If your spell goes off, he'll make a noise to go with it." Ron smirked. "He'll croak."

"How loud?" Neville asked but Ron only shrugged his shoulders.

Eyes turned to Harry. He looked down.

"I know it was my idea, but John's better at Transfiguration. I thought I'd help Neville. He said it's easier if to have someone anchor the spells while he holds them in balance."

Draco smiled. "It's my turn? I'm placing a ward. This way, the spells will know when to react. I found an easy one."

"John," Neville asked. "If this works, how long will the spells last."

He watched as John paused to think. "Maybe a year. No more than two." John smiled. "By then we'll be stronger. We can renew the spells to last longer. And Trevor will stay. I'm only changing the shape of the stone."

Neville nodded his head. John cast the spell that would slowly transfigure the top stone into the shape of a toad. Hermione and the others cast their spells while he and Harry held their wands above. Neville could feel the five spells fighting with each other. He could also feel Harry's magic joining his to calm the spells. It was familiar. His Gran specialized in this kind of work in her younger days. She would hold young Neville in her arms as she performed the spell to merge the spells. For some reason, he always thought of them as a bunch of frightened kittens.

Draco's spell seemed the wildest. As the time slowly passed, or so it seemed, Neville felt the kittens calm down and settle in. Except Draco's kitten which seemed to have an extra long tail. He dared to look at Harry as he was able to relax. Harry seemed anxious, as though he was having trouble.

Neville felt a shift in last spell as Harry asked, almost relieved, "is that you, Draco?"

"Yeah," came a laughing reply. "This is something I'm new at."

"What's it like?" Parvati asked.

"Like fishing," Draco answered.

Neville laughed. "Yeah, if you're holding a half dozen fishing poles."

"There!" Harry shouted. "Do you feel that? I think I can anchor the spell."

"Wiggle it in," Draco said, "don't push. I can feel the spell trying to jump away."

All seven eyes were concentrated on the nearly finished toad statue. None of them noticed the fireworks display going on above their heads.

* * *

Terry Boot was standing by the window. He looked out as he saw the first star flare in the waning light. He shouted as a second and third appeared. By the time the windows were filled, so were the skies. Terry wasn't the first to notice, but the fireworks extended to the ground as well.

In a different part of the castle, the teachers paused in their meeting to gaze out the window. Professor Snape was the one to state the obvious. It was the wards. Something in the wards was exploding, for lack of a better word. Dumbledore nodded. He cast a spell from his wand. A particular spell that would tell him the status of the school wards. He frowned.

"Filius, check the wards, please."

The diminutive Charms professor pulled his wand out and began casting a series of diagnostic spells. At his conclusion, he said, "that's impossible." Everyone was looking at him.

"It's the wards. Something was added to them. They're actually stronger than they were before."

"And those flashes of light?" Professor Sprout asked in concern.

"The Cyberman Ghosts," he said in awe. "Disappearing. They're gone."

"How?"

The question could have come from anyone. When Professor Flitwick shrugged his shoulders, all eyes turned to the Headmaster. Albus had to admit that he had no idea.

* * *

"You look glum," Draco said to his brother as they sat down to breakfast. "Did you get an E in something instead of straight O's?"

"Grades aren't out yet." John looked up from his oatmeal. "I was useless. Did you know that? I could have stayed with Fluffy and let Ron go."

"You're talking about the third floor?"

"Yeah. I mean, I was there. I helped. But I didn't do anything that anyone else couldn't do."

"You licked that stone. At least, Harry said you did."

"Anyone could have licked that stone."

"But they didn't," Draco insisted. "You made the difference because you were the one that was there. Without you, things would have been different."

"You mean that no one else would have licked the stone?"

"Well, Ron wouldn't have ended up in the infirmary with a sore throat. Parvati would have gone with Harry to see the stone and they all would have been attacked by Quirrell. I don't know." Draco used his wise man voice. "You made a difference because you were there."

John shrugged his shoulders. "You always sound like you're quoting someone when you use that voice."

This time, Draco shrugged his shoulders. "Why did you lick the stone?"

John broke out into a wide grin. "To analyze the mineral content. It's amazing what your tongue can tell you, well, what my tongue can tell me. It's interesting how the same chemicals and minerals will have a different taste based upon how they were put together."

"I can follow that," Draco said, nodding his head. "It's like the eggs. Today's eggs aren't as good as yesterday's. They are. As good. But whoever scrambled the eggs today didn't do it the same as whoever did it yesterday. The pieces are a little bit bigger and slightly more clumpy than I prefer. They're not bad. Just different enough to notice."

"You notice your eggs?" John asked.

"Yeah."

"Has anyone ever told you that you are weird?"

Draco paused for a moment, thinking. "Not since the Christmas holiday."

* * *

"Here it is," Hambledon Quince said the next morning as he opened the old ledger. "The employee lists from before."

Lucius was smiling. "And do they designate someone as being in charge?"

"Here it is. Carolean Proctor, director. You can see that the records were automatically updated. They show his time and date of death as determined by Saint Mungo's."

"Then, enter my name in the books as the new director."

Quince took his quill and made the notation. Lucius smiled. It was time to test his idea. The computer monitored everything. It would know about the updates to the books. If Harkness was right, it recognized him as Torchwood, hence the warning. It should now recognize him as being in charge. Therefore, it would either acknowledge him or he still had a major problem on his hands.

He walked out of Quince's office onto the first level balcony and looked up.

"Hello?"

"_Acknowledged, Director."_

Tonks looked over from where she was examining one of the doors. She smiled and looked up at the glowing ball. "Hello from me, too."

Lucius frowned. He had a thought. "Acknowledge all . . . members of Torchwood."

"_Understood. Nymphadora Tonks is acknowledged"_

"TONKS! Don't ever use that first name."

"_Information file is updated."_

"Merlin's beard and whiskers," Hambledon muttered as he stepped out of his office. "I would love to know what that is and how it works."

"You're not the only one," Lucius admitted.

"_Is the director requesting tutorials on systems operation?"_

"Say yes," Tonks told him as she walked up. She had the same look on her face as Hambledon. That it was Christmas day and she was waiting for permission to play with her new toys.

"Yes, then," Lucius said with a laugh. "How do we start?"

"_Is the tutorial conclusive for the entire staff?"_

"Yes."

"_Time of commencement?"_

"Now?" Lucius asked and received two vigorous agreements. "Um, how long will this take?

"_Initial overview will take 30 minutes. Extended tutorials in different aspects of operation vary in length but need not be taken in any particular order_."

Lucius smiled. He was getting the feel of the thing. "Do we need to be sitting or standing? Or anything else?"

"_Standing is preferable based upon average comfort indices of those previously taking the tutorials."_

"Proceed then," Lucius said with authority.

"_Authorization is required to confirm the presence of all staff before tutorial can commence."_

"Go ahead." Lucius stifled a laugh. The computer wanted to make sure all three of them were here.

"_Initializing teleportation."_

"What?" As he said the word he remembered. On paper, at least, there was one more member. He had let the boy stay on the payroll since it didn't cost him anything.

* * *

Richard Evans sat in the back of the classroom. He was daydreaming. The teachers was explaining something or other but he was already at Kings Cross Station on Saturday next to meet Hermione. He would give her flowers and she would thank him with a kiss. Or. He would give her candy and she would thank him with a kiss. Or. He would show up and she would ask him how stupid he could be. Wasn't he warned about the wizards? The intrusion of reality upon his daydreams coincided with the class ending. The teacher reminded everyone of the final exams.

He stood up. The classroom was already deserted. The teacher was erasing the board and saying, without looking back, "hurry on, Evans. Don't be a slowcoach. Your next class won't wait." He smirked and went to grab his books. The teacher knew he knew the lesson. And probably knew he was thinking of a girl.

Of a sudden, he felt dizzy. Then his body seemed to twist and press in on itself as though he was being squeezed from all sides. One second later, he felt fine. Except he wasn't in the classroom anymore. His guess was that he wasn't even in the school. Someone called his name. It was Lucius Malfoy. He recognized the pink-haired lady with him. His was frowning. She was amused. So was the older man standing there on the platform. He stepped off the platform onto the metal walkway and walked around it until he joined the group.

"Congratulations, Mister Evans. You are about to earn some of that money you've been spending."

"_Tutorial to begin upon authorization."_

"Huh?" That was Ritchie's only reply.

"We're learning to use the company computer," the lady said to him then turned to Mister Malfoy. "Is he really part of the staff?"

Lucius Malfoy looked uncomfortable. "An impulse decision. He was in the right place at the right time. A muggle on the staff could prove useful."

Ritchie frowned. He wasn't stupid. His Mum even said it. They made some clerical error and it was only a matter of time before they corrected it. Lucius Malfoy's next remark changed his attitude.

"It was an impulse decision, Mister Evans. When I discovered you were put on the payroll, I could have corrected the matter then and there. And you might prove useful. Muggles see things differently than wizards do. You might see something we'd miss."

As the man smiled, Ritchie stared in awe. Mister Malfoy knew exactly what he was thinking. Ritchie was then told to stand still for the tutorial.

* * *

"Here they are," Tonks said as she reached into the numbered box. She and Ritchie were in the storage room. Now that she had 'authorization', the doors all opened when she told them to. She was now gathering the supplies that the computer insisted their muggle staff member had to have.

Turning around, she handed the boy a pair of fingerless leather gloves. She watched as he put them on.

"They're too big. Uh, no." Surprise was in his voice as the gloved shrank in size. "They fit perfectly."

"You're muggle. You know the phrase, one size fits all? With magic, that's the literal truth." She led the way out of the storage room and down the platform toward the offices. She stopped at another door and told it to open. They walked in as Tonks followed the directions past shelves of various potions.

"Number 28, shelf C. This is it." She pulled a bottle of pills off the shelf and handed it to Ritchie. "Remember, take two now and one every morning. Unlimited refills."

"And this will work?" Ritchie asked as he opened the bottle.

"Computer said it was a 97 percent probability."

She took the cap to the bottle and conjured it into a cup. She then cast a spell with her wand and filled the cup with water. Ritchie put the two pills in his mouth then took the cup of water. When he was done, Tonks transfigured the cup back into a cap.

"Now, back to school with you. Remember the story?"

"Got sick." Ritchie said with a grin. He held up the bottle. "I even have my medicine to prove it."

As they approached the platform, Ritchie noticed the sign about apparation and asked, "Spaceship magic? Can you really cast a spell and end up on another planet?"

Tonks laughed. "Of course not, silly. Muggles may have some technological device that you can press a button and end up anywhere. But we're talking magic, here. Try to be realistic. Magic moves the spaceships." She stared at him. "What?"

"Nothing. Just a lot to think about."

"You'll get used to it."

"Will I get a wand?"

Tonks had to grin. The boy's tone was familiar. She had that same tone when she was ten years old and asked the same question.

"Let's get you back to school and worry about wands later."

* * *

"Wotcha, Miss," Tonks was saying as she led Ritchie into the classroom. "Young charge left his books behind when he took sick."

The teacher asked a few questions and was satisfied when Ritchie admitted he had to take some pills for while but he would be fine in the morning. He took his books and left with his escort. Once they were clear of the building, Ritchie asked why no one seemed to notice them. When he was told it was a spell, he decided to make a list of spells he'd like to learn. Tonks then told him to grab her arm. One second later, he was standing in front of his flat.

He became nervous. He had to talk to his mum. He had to explain his day. How he was transported to London. The tutorials from the alien computer. How he was given magic gloves and magic pills. How, if they worked, he might even get a magic wand. How Lucius Malfoy wanted him to earn his keep by helping Tonks catalogue the surplus storage. That made him smile. He knew how to begin. He opened the door and walked in.

"MUM, I got a job for the summer."

"Really?" His mother said in her you're-not-fooling-me tone of voice. "I received a nice long letter from Mister Malfoy explaining everything." Her tone softened. "It was an audio letter. That was very considerate of the man." She smiled. "He even asked my permission." She paused. "Tell Tonks she's welcome to stay for dinner. I've already ordered curry for three."


End file.
